Adverse Effect
by Farie Insignias
Summary: A spell with all the right intentions goes awry. Will Bonnie be able to handle the consequences?
1. Chapter 1

**Hi! So, I have some very important, quick notes that I want to adress first and foremost.**

**I would like to send a BIG thank you to TheSouthernScribe for letting post this story that was inspired by her amazing one-shot Wisdom in Mistakes, which if you have not read please take the time do so and all her other amazing works in _Shag, Snog, Marry, Kill_. Trust me, you will not regret it. Also want to thank FanFicFan12 to talking me into actually posting this.**

**I'm going to try to post a new chapter every week or two weeks tops. Key word here folks - TRY. As an university student, my time isn't my own, especially in November, but I really want to keep this ball rolling so I'll try my hardest. Oh, also, this is set pre- Plan-B (such a great episode!), so none of that stuff has happened yet, and I'm not so sure it's going to... I haven't decided yet. **

**Alright. ENJOY!**

**

* * *

**

Bonnie turned another well-worn page of Emily's Grimoire, a small frown tugging at the corners of her mouth. She had almost read the book from cover to cover now, spent hours poring over the spells, hoping to find something useful. What exactly, she wasn't sure of...

A breath pushed itself past her lips as she let herself drop back onto her bed. It was frustrating! She had been a witch for what? Well... technically, her whole life, but _virtually_, a couple of months. She had no one to teach her and no idea what she was doing!

She pushed the Grimoire off to the side with her leg as she shifted until she was facing her bedroom window. She stared blankly at the few branches she could see of the willow tree outside, thoughts churning over and over again in her mind. First Stefan, then Damon, then the tomb vampires, and now Katherine and werewolves... they had all marched into her life unexpectedly and destroyed it's delicate balance until she wasn't sure she'd even be able to recognize normality if she saw it. There seemed to be no end in sight.

Jeremy had lost too many people in the past year, Matt had lost his sister, Caroline had lost her humanity and Elena... well, Elena always seemed to be dealing with some sort of drama. They all seemed to be broken and battered, and it hadn't even been a year since finding out that the things that go bump in the night were real. At this rate, she wasn't sure they'd make it to their twenties. Caroline already hadn't... If only there was some way to fix this. An easy fix.

Bonnie smiled bitterly to herself. Yeah, she was pretty sure those didn't exist. All she could do was study Emily's Grimoire, learn it inside and out, and become the best damn witch Mystic Falls has ever seen. She wouldn't let anyone else come in and destroy what was left of her town and her friends. She couldn't. There was barely anything left to destroy.

Pushing herself up sluggishly, she felt a heaviness settle in her heart as she glanced at the book by her feet. She was _way_ too young to be this jaded. Sighing, she picked the book back up and began to read.

_**Time Manipulation**_

_**Not to be used unless under extreme duress.**_

Bonnie paused. This couldn't be... She felt her brow furrow as she continued to read.

_This spell allows the caster to move throughout time. Like with any spell of this nature, there may be dire consequences. Time is a fragile thing and does not like to be tampered with. Changing past events may have adverse effects on the future _–

Unbelievable. Emily had discovered a way to time travel. This was unreal. This was... An idea was beginning to form in Bonnie's head, a little seed of inspiration taking root. What if she could go back? Go back to before Damon had become such a permanent fixture in their lives, when he thought Katherine was in the tomb. She could tell him Katherine wasn't in the tomb, stop him from opening it and setting all those vampires free. Stop her Grandmother from dying. She could save so many people.

Her hands were beginning to shake. She took a deep breath to calm herself down, and slowly they stopped. This was it. She could change everything.

She glanced over at the spell again and checked the ingredients. Fairly basic, she already had everything she would need. Meaning... she could do it right now. She could fix everything, just like that.

'_There are no easy ways out, baby.'_ A voice chimed in her head, sounding suspiciously like Grams.

It was probably sound advice, but she couldn't let this go. She was too close to having everything she wanted. Not just for herself, but for everyone else she loved too. They could all be happy again, like they used to be.

Bonnie could feel her eyes being pulled to the words on the page, as if they were highlighted. _Dire consequences... adverse effects_. Yeah, that didn't sound too promising, but really, what did she have to lose? She highly doubted that any future could be worse than this one. Decided, she rose to gather the ingredients before she could talk herself out of performing the spell.

Bonnie had always prided herself on being level headed. She didn't take unnecessary risks and always weighed out her options, choosing the one most likely to benefit all. There was this feeling, in the very pit of her stomach, that something was going to go wrong, but she ignored it as she drew a small circle of salt on her bedroom floor. This was a risk she was more than willing to take.

She placed the five candles, evenly spaced, on the salt circle she had drawn and sat in the middle. She read over the spell a couple more times, memorizing it, then when she felt ready she took a deep cleansing breath and cleared her mind. She slowly began to light the candles, one by one, and kept the images of Damon Salvatore and the tomb clear in her mind. They would be her key. She would go back just far enough to have time to convince him not to open the tomb and get him to leave town before things got out of hand. Maybe she could even convince Stefan to go with... unlikely, but worth a shot.

Vaguely she wondered if the candles would continue to burn when she disappeared. She hoped they wouldn't cause a fire. It would suck if her dad came back from Colorado to find his house burned to the ground... Frowning, Bonnie pushed those thoughts aside and tried clearing her mind again. _Damon, tomb, Damon, tomb._ She created a mantra for a moment, focusing only on that, and closing her eyes she began to chant.

There was a slight breeze. She could feel it playing with the strands of her hair. Was her window open? Concentrate! _Damon_. The wood underneath her felt softer, almost like it was flexing under her weight. _Tomb_. The breeze was a little more pronounced now too, she could feel the goose bumps on her arms start to rise. _Damon_. A bird sounded somewhere to her left. It sounded like it was in the room with her. She fought the urge to open her eyes and look for it. _Tomb, Damon, tomb_. The air felt cleaner and less polluted. She couldn't even smell the burning wicks from the candles anymore. _Dam-_

She felt the her stomach rise into her throat as the floor seemed to disappear from underneath her. Her eyes shot open just in time to see the branches of the willow tree fly by her and a piercing sound began to fill her ears. It wasn't until the moss covered ground rose to meet her forcefully enough to knock the breath out of her that she realized the noise was her screaming.

There was a pain shooting through her hip, which must have taken most of her weight when she landed, and her left arm definitely felt broken. Her eyes were beginning to sting with unshed tears from the pain, but she tried to ignore it as she looked around. _Talk about adverse effects,_ she thought dryly. Why the fuck was she in a forest? She should be in her bedroom trying to calm a freaked, younger version of herself down and explain why she was seeing double. Where the hell was she?

All she could see were trees, in all directions.

She bit her lip to keep from crying out as she struggled, and somehow managed, to get to her feet. She closed her eyes and breathed through the pain. Maybe, if she was very quiet she would be able to hear traffic and could follow that back to town. Hopefully she wasn't in Kansas or something... that would be a major setback.

Bonnie stood absolutely still for what felt like ages. The pain in her arm was getting harder to ignore and she couldn't hear a single car. How far in the forest was she?

She could just try walking in a direction and hope she found something... A cold fist of panic wrapped itself around her heart. If she didn't walk in the right direction, she could be lost out here for days. The fist tightened painfully. She could die.

_No, I can't think like that. I'll be fine. I have to be._

Hesitantly she started forward, limping heavily on her right side. She had taken a few steps before she felt a tug; like an invisible rope was tied around her waist and she were being dragged towards that direction. Stopping, she looked towards where she felt drawn. It didn't look any different from the where she was originally headed. Just more trees, the leaves a vibrant green colour she doesn't think she had ever seen before. They look healthier than any trees she can remember seeing.

'_I should probably go with my spidie-senses on this one.'_

Smiling a little at her dorky Spiderman reference, she squared her shoulders and headed towards the pull.

* * *

After what felt like hours of limping, her right leg was finally ready to give out. Her knee buckled awkwardly and she just managed to catch herself before her face hit the ground. When was this forest going to _end_?

Her head hung heavy between her shoulders, pulling her closer to the ground. The sun, which had been heavily blocked out by the trees in the forest, was finding its way easier to the ground. Bonnie forced herself to look up. It looked like the woods were finally thinning. _Thank God._

Placing her right hand against the rough bark of the tree next to her, Bonnie used it to as leverage to get back to her feet. "Come on, Bonnie. You can't stop now. You're so close," she whispered to herself. Pieces of bark broke off under her fingernails as she struggled to drag herself up. Feeling a little lightheaded once she was fully erect, she leaned against the tree slightly to rest.

Pushing herself gently away when she felt more stable she continued to limp forward. Yes, the trees were definitely thinning. She could make out a field just up ahead. A few more limps and she was awarded with the outline of the side of a house... No, better make that mansion. Where the hell was she?

The place was huge, with a beautiful white-washed exterior and these columns that reminded her of the Lockwood mansion, but that wasn't right. This wasn't Tyler's place.

A football landed a few feet away from her, making her jump suddenly and misplace her weight on her hip. She cried out before she could stop herself and doubled over.

"I found it. Next time brother, try aiming _at_ me." Said a voice in the distance.

A sense of reassurance surged through her, only dulled slightly by the pain. She knew that voice. The pain was making it hard to place, but she was certain she knew that voice, meaning she was still in Mystic Falls. She smiled, but the way it pulled at her face it felt more like a grimace.

There were footsteps approaching, but Bonnie couldn't bring herself to look up just yet. The steps stopped just out of her line of sight, but it seemed like the person could see her just fine.

"Girl? Are you ill?"

Weird. If she knew the voice, shouldn't they know her? Maybe they couldn't recognize her with her hair in her face the way it was. She just needed a few more seconds to make the world stop spinning and she'd look up.

"I, uh – had a bit of a fall... I think I broke my arm, and my leg is kind of messed up, but other than that I should be fine."

"How did you fall?"

"Brother! Where did you go for the ball? China?" Another familiar voice called from a distance followed by a peel of feminine laughter.

"I will be right there! One moment!" Voice one replied impatiently. "Do you need assistance?"

Assistance to do what exactly? She had no idea where she was, though she suspected somewhere in Mystic Falls she hadn't been before... which didn't make sense, 'cause Mystic Falls wasn't that big, and the spinning was definitely getting worse. Taking a deep breath she slowly raised her head and looked into the clearest blue eyes she had ever known.

"_Damon?_" Except he didn't look right. "What the hell are you wearing?" The swirling was becoming darkness and right before she gave in she noted the utterly perplexed look on Damon Salvatore's face.


	2. Taking Risks

**First I would like to send a big thank you to everyone who's reading this story, and especially to those of you who took the time to review or added me to their story alert/favourites. Crazy people! You guys rock. I'm glad you liked the first chapter and hopefully you'll continue to enjoy.**

**Food for thought: So in this story we're going to be dealing with Human Damon, so he's not going to be exactly like the Damon we all know and love, though I do want to find aspects of that man in this version of him (a very difficult task). Will we ever meet Vampire Damon in this story? That's for me to know and you to...**

**

* * *

**

There was a loose spring pressing into the muscles of her back through the mattress. She tried shifting away from it only to press awkwardly against her broken arm. That woke her up. Her eyes flung open as someone came over to her side. The rough cotton blanket rubbed against her as she tried to sit up causing an uncomfortable itching sensation and an arm gently manoeuvred around her back to offer assistance.

"Shh. It's fine. Here, drink this. It should help with the pain."

The arm slide away from her back and reappeared in front of her holding a glass of something extremely unappetizing in appearance. The hand, Bonnie grazed slightly as she took the glass, was warm and supple, and the colouring was similar to her own.

Staring down into the contents of the glass despondently, Bonnie could pick out the faint scent of lemon and – Oh God. Was that garlic? Deciding against drinking the mixture, she held it loosely in her lap and looked up. Emily stared back at her.

_NO! This can't be happening. I have to be dreaming. Please, please, let me be dreaming._

Slowly she looked around the room and took in the details. The furniture was antique, the bed itself was pretty plain, but the vanity and small writing desk and chair were definitely dated. And that date was screaming 1864. Bonnie allowed her gaze to fall back on Emily, who was in turn studying her. Her clothes were in the same style they had appeared to be in her dreams. This was really happening.

"How?" Bonnie asked more to herself than anyone else. _What went wrong?_

Misinterpreting her question, Emily answered. "Mr. Salvatore brought you inside when you passed out from the pain. Miss Katherine, my mistress, asked me to look after you, as I am very well versed in the art of healing, though it is not one of my regular duties. You have been unconscious for the past few hours. How did you come to be in such a state?"

Bonnie felt her muscles tighten reflexively. She was in a completely different time period, when being someone of colour was not the most fortunate of circumstances, with a very human Damon and Stefan and a very non-human Katherine. Emily could be a potential ally, though honestly, she didn't exactly trust her. As it was right now, she didn't have a way to get back to her time without Emily's Grimoire, so it looked like she would have to take that risk... 'cause that was working out so well for her so far.

"Maybe we should start with a different question. Like who I am."

Emily raised an eyebrow in interest. "And who is that?"

It felt like she was about to choke on her tongue, but she managed to force it out. "My name... is Bonnie Bennett. I'm your descendent."

Emily was much faster than she looked. She was across the room and at the window so quickly, it almost brought back Bonnie's dizziness. She watched her curiously as she peered outside, locking on to something in the distance. Seeming satisfied she made her way back over to Bonnie.

"That would explain the curious attire and why I feel as if I know you from somewhere." She gazed at her, more intently now and Bonnie shifted uncomfortably. It was like she was peering into her soul. "How did you come to be here?"

"There was this spell, in you Grimoire, for time manipulation..." Emily raised an eyebrow again, obviously intrigued.

"And why would you need a spell like that?"

"The Salvatore brothers –"

"No. Do not tell me. I was foolish to ask. You mustn't alter anything, and if I were to gain knowledge of future events I may inadvertently stop them from happening."

"Why create a spell if you don't want to change the future?"

"I have yet to created the spell you speak of," she answered, a small smile pulling at one corner of her lips, "Perhaps I created it to send you back."

"Oh." Well that would be ironic. Wait – "So, you're saying you can't send me back?"

"Not presently, no. And considering the volatile nature of time, I will presume that this will be no simple feat. You may be here for awhile."

"Oh God." She could feel panic start to build in her chest.

"The most I can do for you now is help you adjust. I can give you some suitable attire and perhaps find you work."

"Work? Doing what?"

"I have a feeling I may have to keep an eye on you, so a job within the household would be most agreeable."

"Like cleaning?"

"Yes."

"Like a servant?"

"Of course." There was a sense of amusement lacing her tone, making her seem almost approachable.

If Bonnie had to pull a 'yes Massa' she was going to smack a fool. There was no way she would be able to handle being subservient to anyone. Oh god, she was probably going to get herself whipped for lack of obedience, and if that happened someone was going to get burned.

"As long as you keep your head down and mind your tongue, no one will see you." Emily assured her, reading the panic in her eyes.

Great. The two things she was not good at.

"A word of advice. It would be in your best interest if Miss Katherine were to remain unaware of our relation. Perhaps you could go by a different surname... and the Salvatore brothers, you should avoid contact with them, lest you should alter history."

That was kind of the point of performing the spell in the first place, though this wasn't quite what she'd had in mind. She decided to keep that thought to herself.

"You should drink that." Emily indicated the drink resting on her lap. She had almost forgotten about. it

"Right." She said, and tried not to make a face. _Well,_ she thought, lifting the vile smelling concoction to her lips, _here's to taking risks._

_

* * *

_

This dress was unbearable! It was hot and itchy and it felt like she was choking. Bonnie pulled at the collar fruitlessly, wishing for the umpteenth time she could just wear her regular clothes. She alternated between dusting the shelf and its contents distractedly and fiddling with her collar. How did people do this every day? The fabric of the dress seemed to retain heat rather than letting it escape, and as if moving around in this thing wasn't difficult enough, she had a _petticoat_, which was a bitch to get on.

Voices floated down the hall towards her, slowly getting louder. Bonnie straightened suddenly and focused harder on her dusting. Better to look busy than incompetent.

"I'll go if they draft me, but I am not signing up for the army to fight for a cause that I do not believe in." That was Damon.

"It's not about believing in anything. It's about making something of yourself." This voice was older and very commanding, and it was coming closer.

Damon turned the corner and entered the room, his eyes looking towards the ceiling. He was obviously annoyed. "You would rather I _die_ in battle trying to make a name for myself, than find something I would wish to spend the rest of my life doing?"

"If it were something other than loose women and drinking, then yes. You're old enough Damon. I will not coddle anymore."

Emily was right. They didn't even seem to notice she was in the room. She couldn't imagine having such a personal conversation in front of a stranger. Though the idea of Damon shirking off responsibility wasn't that new to her, it was disconcerting hearing it from a stranger. Even if that stranger was his father. _Especially _since that stranger was his father. Peeking subtly up at the ornate mirror hanging from the wall just to the left of her, she watched them. His father looked even more commanding than he sounded. Standing quite a bit shorter than Damon he still seemed to manage to tower over him.

"When have you ever coddled me?" Damon challenged him, his eyes blazing with indignation and something akin to hurt. It was making her uncomfortable.

"You refused to go to college. I allowed it. You refused to apprentice. I allowed it. You refused to look at the family business. I allowed _that_. But I will make no more allowances. You are going to the army, Damon!"

"I will go when they draft me, and no sooner!"

"Boy, you will do as I say or by God I swear –"

Coughing loudly, she waited until she could feel their gazes turn on her, and took the moment to smile over her shoulder in what she hoped was an apologetic manner, but felt a little strained. She never thought she'd indirectly stand up for Damon Salvatore, but she felt like she was caught in the middle here and she couldn't take anymore.

Salvatore senior seemed to take the hint well enough. His posture stiffened in response to having an audience and he turned his attention sharply back to Damon, who had yet to look away from her, a calculating look in his eyes, as if she were some puzzle he were trying to work out. His father either didn't notice or simply didn't care about his son's lack of attention for he managed a clenched, "We will discuss this further at another time," then he turned, almost completely on the balls of his feet and walked away.

Bonnie made it a point to focus on the way the dust particles hung in the air around the object she was dusting before settling on it once more, and not on the man staring at her intently from behind. Dusting had to be the most redundant chore in the world.

"Have you always worked here?"

She had been hoping that he would just leave. She should have known better. Damon had a knack for doing the exact opposite of what she wanted him to do. Biting down on her lip she weighed her options. She knew what she wanted to do: ignore him, but because of her... position, that probably wasn't the best option.

"Girl?"

"No. I'm new." She answered as simply as possible. She was probably being disrespectful by keeping her back to him, but she wasn't interested in engaging in conversation, and since conversation was 40 percent eye contact (or for them, more realistically, 59 percent eye contact/ 41 percent invasion of personal boundaries), this seemed a pretty effective way of discouraging it.

"Have we seen each other before?"

"No."

"Then how did you know my name?"

Her hand froze mid-swipe. She had forgotten she had called him by name. _Great. How are you going to get out of this one Bonnie?_ Slowly, she began to dust again as an excuse started to form. "I... saw your portrait once."

"Where was this?" He sounded completely perplexed.

_Yeah Bonnie, where?_ Her hand stilled again while she pondered... Nothing was coming to her and the longer she hesitated, the thicker she could feel the silence getting. She lifted her eyes to the mirror and caught his, sprouting the most plausible answer."I can't remember. It was a while ago."

He was looking at her then, as if he were expecting more of an explanation. She tried to swallow around the dryness in her mouth.

"It had your name on it. That's how I recognized you." He looked sceptical, so she added hastily, "And your eyes. No one has eyes like yours."

Said eyes widened suddenly, a slight redness tinting his cheeks. Was Damon Salvatore blushing?

"Are you always this forward?"

_That was forward?_

"Uh, yes? I suppose so. Is that bad?" She wasn't going to be punished for mentioning his eyes, was she?

"No. It's admirable."

She could feel the uncomfortable heat work its way up from her neck into her cheeks, stinging them slightly. What was this; a blushing competition? Bonnie searched the recesses of her mind for something to say, but couldn't find anything, and so she took that as a sign to turn her attention back to her work while awkwardly waiting for the heat to fade from her cheeks. A silence seemed to stretch on for ages until she was certain the conversation was finished. But of course, she was wrong.

"Do you have a name?"

"Yes, I have a _name_." She snorted, derisively before she could stop herself. She couldn't decide whether to be offended or amused.

Damon was having the same problem, not knowing how to respond to her obvious disregard to social decorum.

"Will you tell me what is, or will I have to guess?" A familiar smirk ghosting at his lips, not quite there yet.

Should she tell him? Would that change the future too much? Didn't she want to change the future? She glanced up into the reflection of his eyes again. Even just standing there, there was something very vulnerable about Damon Salvatore. He was so easy to read, so open; it was hard to imagine that anyone like this could turn into such a heartless bastard. '_Katherine really effed him up._'

"Or would you prefer I continue to call you Girl?"

She could feel the corner of her lips pull up despite herself.

"It's Bonnie."

"Bonnie." He spoke softly, tasting the word on his tongue before smiling in return.

She frowned suddenly and turned stiffly back to her work. Unconsciously, she rubbed her neck to erase the feeling of phantom fangs sinking into it. That happened sometimes, when he smiled too widely. It was like his teeth were breaking deeper through her skin the further his lips pulled apart. _Good. A constant reminder of the man he'll become._

This was the last thing she wanted: seeing another side of Damon. She didn't need or want to start making excuses for his behaviour. He was a monster, nothing more. She needed him to be a monster otherwise she would turn into one herself. Bonnie was very much aware of the part she had played in all that had happened in the past months. If she couldn't blame someone else she'd go crazy with blaming herself. She'd be frozen by guilt and remorse; too afraid to make a move lest she hurt someone else. Blaming Damon made her strong enough to continue fighting. If she couldn't hate him she'd fall apart.

"Your arm. Does it hurt?"

Bonnie looked at the make shift sling her left arm was strung in. She'd be lucky if it reset properly, but other than that, Emily's God awful concoction actually managed to help ease the pain and it had lessened to a dull constant throb. It would be a long while before she could use it though. Good thing she was right handed.

"It's manageable." She replied as shortly as possible.

"It looked broken."

"It is." _Go away, Damon._ She tried to mentally transmit the message.

"You said you fell?"

"Yes."

"How exactly did you come to be in such a state?"

"Like you said, I fell." _Leave. Leave._

"Yes I gathered that, but –"

"I have work to do." Subtlety obviously wasn't working.

"Are – are you... dismissing me?" he said, sounding completely flummoxed.

She turned to him suddenly, biting her lip in trepidation. Maybe she should have stuck with subtle. She really didn't want any trouble. "No. I'm... simply... emphasizing the _importance_ of my work."

"You are. You're dismissing me." His face seemed to be in a battle with itself, unable to decide what signal it was receiving from his brain, until finally it settled somewhere between befuddlement, awe and amusement.

"Look, I just don't want any trouble, Damon – Salvatore – Mr. Salvatore."

The ghost smirk was back, playing at the corners of his lips. "Of course. I understand. Keep your head down and no one will notice you."

"Right. And it's harder to do that with a certain someone talking to me." She added pointedly.

Genuine amusement was sparkling in his crystalline blue eyes as he smiled and said, "I should probably be offended by your lack of decorum, but I find it difficult to fault you for something I myself lack. I never have been very good at doing what is expected of me." His smile slipped slightly as his thoughts went to earlier. "I will leave you to your work, Bonnie."

And with that Damon Salvatore made his way into the adjoining hall and out of sight. A tension Bonnie didn't even realize she was holding slide slowly from her muscles and she looked dolefully back at the shelf. God, she hated dusting.


	3. 21st Century Girl

**I've realized that I've forgotten to disclaim the first two chapters so... DISCLAIM! I DISCLAIM EVERYTHING! Okay, now that's out of the way -**

**As always I want to say thank you to everyone! You guys are so great. It really makes me want to sit down and turn out something amazing for you. That being said, I'm not at all happy with this chapter. I've been over it like a million times and I still don't like it. There are moments that I like, but the majority... bah. Hopefully you guys disagree. lol.**

**Food for Thought: Bonnie's suffering from severe culture shock, and not just that, but she has to re-assimulate how she interacts with people, something she's definitely struggling with. Especially with Damon, since she's used to responding to him in a certain way, it's difficult for her to interact with him in a new way. Don't be surprised if she slips up...**

**

* * *

**

Bonnie adjusted the strap of her make-shift sling to stop it from digging into her shoulder, as it was want to do. Emily insisted it needed to be that tight (to ensure the arm didn't jostle unnecessarily and aggravate the injury) ever time Bonnie complained: which was often.

Bonnie shook her head gently as she tried to refocus on what Emily was saying to her. She was pointing at an interesting looking yellow and black flower in the garden and explaining its properties and uses. The ribbons of the bonnet she always donned when outside were flapping like banners in the wind. She had tried to get Bonnie to wear one too but she had put her foot down. The dress was bad enough; she couldn't handle a hat to go with it.

"This can make a particularly potent poison when mixed correctly. Most poisons made with this flower can only be remedied with an antidote consisting of the flower's very centre, which is where the toxins are most concentrated. A poison to cure a poison, if you will." She turned to look at her then with the same soul piercing gaze that she always seemed to give her. "Are you listening to any of this?"

Well, she had been _trying to_, did that count? It's not that she wasn't interested. Having a teacher as experienced as Emily was amazing, and exactly what she was lacking, it was just a lot to take in. They had been at this for almost an hour now, and all the plants and their properties were starting to blur.

Putting on her best impression of an attentive student she nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yes, of course. It's great stuff. Yellow flower – Poison – Bad. Gotcha."

Emily was not impressed, if the frown she was wearing was any indication. "Perhaps for our next lesson you should bring something to write what you learn in."

Emily was very proficient at making Bonnie feel like a moron. "Right. Good idea. I'll remember that for next time."

_Though how I'm supposed to take notes with a broken arm, I'll never know,_ she couldn't help but think to herself.

When Bonnie had mentioned that she was alone in her own time, Emily had taken it upon herself to tutor her in everything she deemed important for a witch to know. She claimed it served two purposes: to make her a stronger witch and hopefully, jog her memory about the spell and its ingredients. For the life of her, Bonnie could not remember anything beyond the salt circle and candles. She knew the ingredients were common and the spell was fairly simple, but it had also been in Latin so that didn't help her too much.

"Emily, about the sp-"

"Yes, it _is_ unfortunate that saffron is so costly, since it has such wonderful healing properties. It was often commonly used as an aphrodisiac in ancient times as well."

"What?" Where was this coming from?

Emily shot her a look so fierce Bonnie knew better than to question the sudden lesson on saffron. Clearing her throat awkwardly, Bonnie searched her mind for something plausible to say. "What... what could you substitute saffron with?"

Emily's gaze softened in her certainty that Bonnie, despite being completely confused, was playing along. "Ginger is very effective against many of the ailments saffron is said to cure. Though I do not believe it would make for a very good aphrodisiac."

From the way Emily was smirking, the last part was probably her attempt at humour, but Bonnie was too busy trying to figure out why Emily had shut her down so quickly to be amused. She had to have known she was about to bring up the spell. Why would she not want her to?

"Emily, there you are!" a voice called not far behind her.

Ice prickled through Bonnie's veins as she slowly turned to see Katherine coming towards them. Emily must have seen her off in the distance, hence the saffron.

"Miss Katherine, is something the matter?"

"Not at all," she assured coming to stand a few feet away from them. "The Salvatores are to attend dinner at the Fell's this evening and have been kind enough to extend the invitation to me. I will need you to help me get ready."

"Of course, Miss Katherine, I will be right with you." Emily dipped her head respectfully. As Katherine turned to retreat she spared a glance at Bonnie, not really seeing her until her eyes landed on the sling. Stopping, she turned and gave Bonnie her full attention.

"You're the girl we found in the courtyard. How curios... Whatever happened to you, my dear?"

It was disorienting: looking into Elena's face and knowing it wasn't Elena she was seeing. Disorienting and creepy. She tried not to glare as she replied.

"I fell." How many times was she going to have to say that?

"How?"

"It's a _long_ story."

"Pity. I have very little time on my hands." Katherine said, smiling as if she were enjoying some private joke.

_Oh, I'm sure that's not true._ Bonnie had to bite her lip to stop from saying out loud.

"Miss Katherine," Emily interjected gently, "we should be on our way. We have very little time to get you ready."

"Yes," she agreed. Turning, she began to walk back towards the residence, calling over her shoulder, "Come along, Emily."

Following after at a distance, Emily tossed a glance back at Bonnie before she got too far. _Behave_. At least that's what it looked like she was saying, though Bonnie couldn't imagine why. She'd given Emily no reason to think she'd do anything reckless.

Sighing deeply, Bonnie took in her surroundings. Though the vista was breathtaking, there wasn't much to do around here. She looked down at garden beside her and felt a bone-deep tiredness consume her. She had looked at enough plants for today... _Now what?_

Setting off in the direction of the great lawn at the front of the house she wandered aimlessly, letting her mind drift. If she were back in her own time, what would she be doing right now?

Probably being talked into doing some sort favour for Damon and/or Stefan, as per usual. She snorted derisively at the thought, and walked hard into something that felt suspiciously like a wall. Looking up, she saw the soft cotton clothed back of man.

"Whoa. I'm sorry." She said as she backed up quickly.

The back turned and suddenly she was facing Damon Salvatore. _Speak of the devil._

"Bonnie." He looked surprised to see her.

"Da – Um, Mr. Salvatore." She corrected herself just in time, and added the head bow thing she saw Emily do for good measure.

He smiled slightly, "Are you well?"

"Fine. Thank you."

"And your arm?"

"Such a bitch."

She was certain the wide-eyed shock she could see on Damon's face was a perfect reflection of her own. She could feel it pulsing through her in waves. She had meant to think that, not say it out loud.

"I beg your pardon?" He finally managed.

"I – I meant that it hurts. A lot."

"I see."

They stood there, an awkward silence filling the space between them as they let their eyes land on everything but each other. Her injured hip was starting to get sore from the weight she was placing on it and so she shifted slightly, keeping her eyes glued to the ground.

Should she apologize? Well, she didn't do anything wrong technically, but she was very aware that people didn't speak like that in 1864, especially women. She had to be more careful. Looking up at him as he studied the trees behind her head, she swallowed her pride.

"I didn't mean to offend you."

His eyes snapped back to hers. "You did not offend me. I was... surprised. I have never heard a woman speak like that before."

"Yeah, well, my mouth can sometimes get me into trouble."

Her eyes narrowed as she watched a red blossom across Damon's cheeks. Why was he blushing now?

He cleared his throat suddenly as his eyes darted to the trees beyond her head again. "Have you seen Miss Katherine, by any chance?" His voice sounding oddly strained.

Bonnie had to fight against the inclination to frown. She studied Damon staring intently at the trees behind her and debated. Katherine was the root of all evil, in general and in this story in particular. Maybe there was a way she could keep the Salvatore brothers from getting too involved with her, keep them from even becoming vampires. That way Elena would never miss Stefan because she would never know him. He and his brother would simply pass away... An uncomfortable tug pulled at the pit of her stomach. Something about that didn't sit right with her.

Surely the world would be a better place without Damon Salvatore in it. He caused nothing but pain for those around him and he relished it. There was not a decent bone in that man's body. She wouldn't miss him. Though... if she were going to be honest with herself, there would be _one_ thing she'd miss about him. His eyes. God, they were so blue. They could make her forget what a monster he was, especially when he was looking at her like that: like he was trying to search her for the answer to some question... Oh my god! He was actually asking her a question!

"I'm sorry? What was that?" Bonnie asked, rapidly coming back to herself.

"Do you know whom I'm referring to?" He repeated, not drawing attention to her obvious lapse.

"I've met her. She's getting ready for dinner."

"Ah." His shoulders sagged slightly as he tried, and failed, to hide his disappointment.

Seemed like she wouldn't be able to keep him away from Katherine even if she tried, he was already infatuated. A deep sigh stole from her lips and she brainstormed for some sort of excuse to leave.

"Are you tired?"

"Yes." _More so by the second._

"Do you not get many days to rest? What kind of work are you meant to do with your broken arm? W –"

"Why do you ask so many questions?" Bonnie blurted, completely exasperated. He stepped back silently, taken off-guard by the abruptness of her outburst. His mouth open and closed for a moment but before he could respond she continued. "I'm pretty sure this is inappropriate: fraternizing with the help."

He frowned, suddenly sombre. "I apologize if I've made you uncomfortable."

Maybe she had some sort of default setting for when she interacted with Damon that just allowed her to respond without thinking too much. Or maybe it was a defence mechanism to never show any weakness in front of a threat. Maybe it was Pavlov's effect, and she was conditioned to respond to anything Damon said like it was some sort of challenge, but whatever the reason Bonnie took a step into his personal space and looked him right in the eye.

"You couldn't if you tried."

Beyond the shock echoing across his features, there was a flash of acknowledgment of the challenge she was presenting, though he had no way of grasping _where_ this sudden challenge was coming from. The corners of his eyes creased as he studied her. "You are the most startling person I have ever met."

Closing her eyes against the flood of humiliation she could feel heating her cheeks, she took a deep breath. His scent, a mixture of unscented soap and something faintly spicy... something vaguely familiar, that she suspected was uniquely Damon, expanded through her lungs. She let the weight of her head drop down until her chin was tucked against her chest and took a step back.

"I'm probably the one making _you_ uncomfortable."

His laughter teased gently against her ears, coaxing her eyes back up to meet his. "Never a dull moment." He admitted, letting a smile peak out at the corners of his lips.

"I'm not used to all this." She started without really comprehending why she felt the need to explain herself. "These... customs. Where I come from, we don't have so many... rules about how people are supposed to interact."

His eyebrows pulled together in contemplation. "Are you new to Mystic Falls?"

"In a sense." She answered vaguely, suddenly taking a great interest in the slight curl of his hair.

"That would explain it."

She snapped her eyes back to his. "Explain what?"

"You have this peculiar way in which you speak." She raised an eyebrow, signalling for him to elaborate. "You have a way of shortening certain words... for example, instead of could not, you said couldn't. Not that that is so unusual in itself, it is just that you do it quite frequently... for example, all the time."

Crap. She had thought she was blending in fairly well, language-wise. Yeah, she had read Pride & Prejudice once or twice, seen the movie maybe closer to a million times, but reading/hearing the language didn't necessarily equate the ability to speak it on a second's notice. Shrugging it off she offered up a, "That's just the way we speak where I'm from. I guess it's my accent."

"Where are you from?"

_The 21__st__ century_. Bonnie fought off the sudden building pressure in her chest that wanted to burst out of her in the form of hysterical laughter. _This is insane. What am I supposed to say?_

"Damon!" A voice called out, pulling their attention to the front of the house where Stefan stood framed by the massive mahogany doors. He made his way at a decent pace over to where they stood.

Not to step on Elena's toes, but wow did he look good. There was something inherently smouldering about 1864 Stefan. Maybe it was the hair, or the clothes, or the fact that he seemed lighter, like he wasn't wearing his guilt around his shoulders like a cape. Whatever it was, it definitely suited him.

"Damon. Father wishes to speak to you."

Frowning, he asked, "Must I?"

Chuckling, Stefan shook his head. "You must. And please, try not to antagonize him."

"Me? Antagonize _him_? Never."

"Come, Damon. The sooner you go, the better." Stefan said, as he placed an around his brother's shoulders and began leading him away.

Bonnie watched them for a second before turning her attention to the slowly darkening sky. _I wonder what time it is,_ she thought to herself as turned to make her way to her own room, all the while missing the blue eyes that glanced back in her direction before disappearing into the house.


	4. Lenore

**Before I forget - DISCLAIM! DISCLAIM!**

**Just want to let you guys know how much I appriciate the reviews I'm getting, and the feedback in general. Thanks all! Also, someone mentioned that they didn't really like the swearing in my fic, so I just want to make this clear 'cause I really don't want to offend anyone: Bonnie swears, or at least my version of her does. In my mind, Bonnie is a fairly regular teenager (minus the whole witch thing) and the majority of teenagers swear on a fairly regular basis. I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable or offends you, that's the last thing I want to do. That's just the way Bonnie talks and thinks, and since this is her POV there may be some curses in the narrative as well. I'll try to keep it to a minimum. P.P.S. - There is a lot of swearing at one point in this chapter, but it's the most there ever will be in this story and I feel it's pretty justified, I think you'll see why. Just wanted to warn you, so you know what you're getting into if you choose to read.**

**Food for Thought: I believe that Damon's initial attraction to Katherine stemmed from her free spirit, the fact that she didn't fit into the mold of a 'proper lady.' She was good at pretending she did, but I think she could see how trapped Damon felt and allowed him to see a more liberated side of herself. She offered him freedom. But the thing about Katherine is that she's coming from a time period where there were more limitations on people's behavouir than there are now. Enter Bonnie stage right, coming from 2010, who has only half an idea of what would be considered 'proper etiquette' for this time period... Now tell me who seems more attractive?**

**

* * *

**

Emily's room always seemed to be in immaculate shape, it was kind of annoying. Bonnie's little cubby-hole of a room had somehow managed to take on the facade of some kind of post-natural disaster image, which made no sense considering she had virtually no possessions and had only been there little more than a week in total. Emily made no effort to hide her disdain every time she was forced to step foot into her 'room.' One of the many reasons Bonnie chose to spend most of her free time in Emily's room rather than her own.

Not that it was very much bigger than hers, but there was something about it that made it seem more spacious. Perhaps it was the amount of light it got through its fair sized window. Bonnie's room had a window... a dinky little thing no bigger than a shoe-box, so high up she had to stand on her bed to look out of it, which gave off virtually no light. Reason number two. Not to mention the view Emily's window provided. She could see right onto the front lawn and gardens. It was gorgeous.

Bonnie leaned her cheek against the cool wood of the window frame, taking the moment to appreciate the scenery. Out of the corner of her eye she could just make out the Grimoire perched on the edge of the writing table, but she ignored it. Emily had asked her to study it while she went to "attend to Miss Katherine." Bonnie rolled her eyes. She'd like to attend to Miss Katherine... with a nice stake through the heart.

Movement outside brought her back to the present. Squinting, she could make out two figures in the distance. Pressing her forehead against the glass now she picked out a few more details. Dark hair, pale skin, one taller and leaner, the other not stout but definitely more muscular – Damon and Stefan. It looked like they were passing something back and forth between each other until suddenly Damon ran at Stefan tackling him to the ground.

They stayed like that for a moment, rolling around on the grass, fighting for the dominant position. When finally Stefan got the upper hand, having successfully pinned his brother to the ground, he made to get to his feet but Damon lifted his leg swinging it out and knocking him down again. Taking the advantage provided by the surprise, Damon threw himself on top of Stefan and the battle recommenced.

It was like watching puppies play, the way they did everything in their power to get one up on the other without actually hurting them. Damon managed to pull out every dirty trick in the book, and Bonnie was surprised to see that Stefan had a few of his own whenever things leaned too far in his brother's favour. Finally, Damon pinned Stefan awkwardly enough that he called forfeit. Damon shot up, throwing his hands in the air, head back in a cry of victory. Stefan just slumped on the grass, fatigued, laughing so hard his body shook with the reverberations.

It took a moment for Bonnie to realize she was smiling, and even longer to notice the wetness staining her cheeks. It felt like her heart was breaking for something she had never known was lost. They had been brothers once, not just in name, but _real_ brothers. The love between the two was palpable even from this distance. Behind this pane glass window, it filled the room and it filled her. With each breath it tore at her lungs leaving behind a bittersweet ache.

In the corner of her mind, playing like an old black-and-white movie, Bonnie recalled the Founder's Day Parade. When Stefan had been so quick to risk his life in order to rescue Damon she hadn't been able to process why.

"_**The fire will take you out." Bonnie emphasized, closing the distance between them. **_

_**He turned to her then, exhaling deeply before replying, "He's my brother, Bonnie," as if that explained everything. Without further hesitation he raced into the inferno.**_

Now at least, she finally understood.

* * *

Bonnie took great care not to knock off the glass vase as she dusted the areas surrounding it. It would be a blessing when her arm finally healed, just so that she wouldn't have to dust anymore. Though she really shouldn't be complaining. She had it easy compared to what she saw some of the other people doing. Dusting may be monotonous, but at least it wasn't back-breaking.

Her eyes slipped around the upstairs hallway with mild interest and modest trepidation. Being up here made her feel trapped for some reason she couldn't identify. She eyed the door to her immediate right and felt her anxiety grow, forming a tight ball in the pit of her stomach. Maybe it was because she was more familiar with the downstairs' ground plan. Over the past week and a half Bonnie had learned, through trial and error, what rooms were where. She was comfortable downstairs, but up here she felt oddly exposed.

"I submitted my application to the University of Virginia earlier today." Stefan's voice echoed up the stairs as he began to ascend them. "If all goes well I should hear from them in a fortnight."

"My brother, the lawyer." Damon's voice followed.

Bonnie's back went ram-rod straight, her duster striking the vase at an angle that sent it off balance. Her heart beat outside of her chest as her hand came up just in time to grab it before it fell off the stand. Gently, she set it back down before she allowed herself to breathe again. _Holy crap, that was close._

"Not yet," Stefan countered, "but, God willing, soon."

"Always so modest, Stefan. Modesty will get you nowhere. What have I always told you?"

Oh god. Why did they have to be coming upstairs now? She really did not feel like having another stiltedly awkward conversation with Damon Salvatore. She glanced around the hallway for an escape route.

"Several things. Many of which are too obscene to repeat."

All she could see were doors. None of which she knew what lay behind. With her luck she'd probably end up in Damon's room, which would be counterproductive.

"All the best advice is. One day you will come to appreciate my wisdom."

"If you say so."

The only possible escape route available was the stairwell, and that wasn't even a possibility since the person she was trying to avoid was coming _up_ it. _What a crappy hallway_.

"I do."

She looked over towards the staircase just in time to see the brothers take the last step and round the bend of the railing. Blue clashed with green before she had a chance to look away. She could feel her eyes widen while the words '_do something, DO SOMETHING!' _rang over and over again in her head.

Reaching out blindly, her hand came in contact with the door closest to her. She barely managed to wrap her hand around the metal of the handle before she had it open and was inside.

Closing the door behind her, she used it to support herself as her muscles relaxed into liquid. Leaning her head back, she allowed her eyes to fall shut as her heartbeat slowly evened out.

"What are you doing in here?"

Shooting up and away from the door, Bonnie's eyes snapped open to meet Katherine's stern glance. God, this was so much worse than Damon's room.

"Nothing! I – I'm sorry. I didn't realize – I took a wrong turn, I guess. I'm – I'm new." She fumbled out, the words tripping over her tongue awkwardly.

Immediately Katherine's features softened out to something that would appear inviting to anyone who wasn't aware of her true nature. "I understand... Well, I'm certain you know the way out. I won't keep you."

"Right! I'll just..." Bonnie opened the door and slid out of the room faster than she had entered it.

Two sets of eyes had honed in on her entrance. One looking both confused and disappointed, while the other could not be more amused. Though his face gave nothing away, a perfectly blank mask, if not for the slightest upturn to the corner of his lips and the miniscule raise in his eyebrows; his eyes did nothing to hide the spark of laughter he was reigning in. It was infuriating!

What was even more infuriating was the fact that she couldn't _do_ anything about it! He knew she had been trying to avoid him. He had to! What else would he find so damn funny? If she didn't leave now, she was bound to say or do something she'd regret.

Bowing her head slightly, mainly for an excuse to not look at him, she managed, "Mr. Salvatores." Turning stiffly, she then made her way to the stairwell and began to descend, the sound of Damon's laughter finally being released following her all the way down.

* * *

The sweet smell of hay mixed with horse manure was sure to cling to Bonnie's senses far longer than she wanted to think about. A tall beauty of a mare rustled to her left and she couldn't help but watch it. There was something incredibly majestic about horses that even in the best of movies couldn't quite be captured. She had never seen a horse up close before. It was mesmerizing. This mare in particular seemed to captivate her with her long lashes, sleek white and grey spotted felt and this amazingly blond mane.

Her eyes were these huge brown orbs, pulling her in, inviting her to come closer. Bonnie placed the basket of herbs she had been collecting for Emily down by one of the posts that held the oil lamps before slowly inching closer. Her feet seemed to root themselves into the ground right before the mare's gate and they simply watched each other for a moment, sizing each other up almost. Curiosity getting the better of her, as it so often did, she slowly raised her hand and brought it closer to the mare's snout.

"Careful. She bites." A voice spoke over her shoulder.

Bonnie screamed, jumping away from the gate and right into a post. Or more accurately her broken arm slammed into the post. That's when all hell broke loose.

Pain seemed to be shooting from every inch of her body, though logically she knew that wasn't what was happening. Her knees crashed against the hay strewn ground as she cradled her arm, rocking back and forth. Tears burned their way down her cheeks, obstructing her view, though whether she would have been able to see through the pain made it a moot point. Vaguely she could hear the horses creating a cacophony of noise, but her own voice rose above it as a fountain of profanities spilled from her lips.

"Son of a BITCH! Oh God, fuck _me_!... Holy shit. This is un-fucking-believable!... Ahhhhhaaa! Motherfucking HORSESHIT! ... God, God, God..." On and on and on it went until measure by measure the pain began to dull and she felt she could form coherent thoughts again.

Wiping her eyes in hopes of stemming the tears, she looked up to see a very disgruntled Damon Salvatore alternating between attempting to calm the horses and apologizing profusely in her general direction. "Shh. There, it's fine. Everything is fine." He stroked the mare's snout and crest, and gradually under his ministrations all the horses began to calm.

Turning to her then, he offered her his hand, which she promptly pretended not to see as she got to her feet on her own. His hand hung there for a moment before he lowered it back to his side. "I truly am sorry. I had no intention of scaring you. Is your arm -?"

"That's what you get for sneaking up on people." Bonnie snapped before she could stop herself. She hated it when he did that.

His cheeks darkened to a very flattering rose that seemed to heighten the already sinful blue of his eyes: eyes that had narrowed suddenly, something shifting about the way he looked at her, like he'd come to some sort of decision. "Forgive me. I didn't realize you scared so easily. Now I know."

Her jaw slackened at the obvious jab and she stepped into him, making sure to maintain eye contact. "You can't scare me, Damon. I was surprised: that's all."

His eyebrow rose in obvious disbelief, but he didn't comment. They stayed like that for a moment, staring each other down, waiting for the other to back off. His eyes slipped to her lips and then back so quickly she might have imagined it.

"So it's Damon now, is it?"

Sighing, she berated herself for managing to slip up yet again. She took in the lack of distance between the two of them and took a large step back, as if she could build some kind of invisible wall to block him out.

"I meant Mr. Salvatore."

Frowning, he looked away from her mumbling something that sounded vaguely like, "Of course you did."

Silence seemed to follow them like a trail on a wedding dress. It was always just out of sight waiting for its moment to fill the space.

Bonnie eyed the basket of herbs and hoped Emily wasn't wondering what was taking her so long. She really shouldn't have stopped in at the stables, but... Horses! _Real_ horses! How could she resist? She looked back up at Damon to see him rather lost in his own thoughts. Maybe if she moved slowly enough, she could grab her herbs and get out of there without him even noticing.

Like he could hear her thoughts he turned to her, his teeth peeking at her as he smirked widely. "Were you a sailor in a past life, by any chance?"

Bonnie's eyes narrowed in suspicion. What was he talking about now? "I'm sorry, what?"

"I have never heard anyone swear quite the way you do. I was unaware women could _be_ so vulgar until I met you."

Right, the swearing. She really had to try and stop doing that. She lifted her shoulders in a shrug and tried for nonchalance, ignoring the throbbing the movement seemed to cause in her injured arm. "I guess I'm a product of where I'm from."

"Where is that exactly? You never did say."

She stiffened as her mind went into overdrive to think of something plausible. _Uh..._ "Canada." Oh my God, what? What did she just say?

"Really?" He asked, sounding completely bemused. She nodded, not knowing what else to do. "I had no idea Canadians were so liberal."

"Yeah, we're very... progressive."

"Huh. I think I should like to go to Canada one day."

A noise at the front of the stables near the entrance grabbed their attention. A boy, no older than 12 and carrying grooming supplies, stepped into the light, stopping when he noticed them. He looked confused to see them there, not really doing anything, just standing as if waiting for something to happen. Eventually he dragged his attention away from them and made his way to the nearest stall to begin his work.

Bonnie glanced over at Damon, trying to take her cue from him, only to find him frowning over at the boy. Slowly, she watched as a thought began to form in his head. She could see the little cogs turning behind his eyes. She had seen this look before on 2010 Damon, and it usually meant trouble.

"Boy?" He called and the boy stood suddenly, stepping back out of the stall and into the light.

"Sir?"

"The horses need to be feed and watered. Go to the well, bring a bucket with you and be sure to fill the troughs... and if you cannot do it, find someone who can."

"I –" the boy began, looking a little confused, but quickly stopped himself. "Yes, sir." Dipping his head respectfully he made his way out of the stables.

Satisfied with his handiwork he turned his attention back to Bonnie, but the smug look on his face faded into confusion once he noticed her glaring at him. "What is it?"

Frustration coursed through her veins as she struggled to bite her tongue. She had to remind herself that he was as much a product of his time as she was hers. He didn't even realize how he had spoken to that boy. Letting out a long breath, she shook her head tiredly.

"You wouldn't understand." She moved past him to pick up her discarded basket. "I should go."

"You're leaving so soon?"

"I have things I need to do." She continued, not bothering to even look over her shoulder to toss the words at him.

"Oh." His voice sounding surprisingly small. He cleared his throat abruptly and his voice came out clearer. "That's unfortunate. I was going to introduce you to Lenore."

That made her pause. She hesitated a moment before turning back to him. "Who?"

He gestured casually to the mare. "Lenore. You seemed quite taken with her."

"Her name is Lenore?"

"I like Edgar Allen Poe." He answered, sounding almost shy, his eyes focused on the horse.

Bonnie felt her brow furrow slightly as she tried to make the connection. It didn't take her long to recall the poem he was referencing. She had chosen to study Edgar Allen Poe for an English assignment last year. His work was morbid, but strangely beautiful, and she had ended up really enjoying some of it. "A dirge for her, the doubly dead in that she died so young."

Surprised, he studied her as if seeing her for the first time, his mouth curving into a smile. "Precisely."

She nodded absently to herself. She had gotten an A on that assignment. It was pretty awesome.

"Meet me tonight."

Her eyes felt like they were about to pop out of her head they were so wide. "What?" She must have misheard because what she thought he just said is absurd.

"Meet me here tonight. I'll let you ride her."

Nope. She'd heard him right. "Are you insane?" She moved to stand directly in front of him, as if that would help her get her point across better. "Do you have any idea what would happen to us if we got caught? It's bad enough I continue to talk to you."

He waved his hand to dismiss the idea and rolled his eyes. "We are not going to get caught."

"Well I for one, don't plan on taking that chance. I'm not going to meet you illicitly, just so I can ride your horse."

"Oh, Bonnie. Live a little." His eyes were doing that weird widening thing they did sometimes, making him looking a little less than completely sane.

"I don't have a problem with living. It's the dying that I don't agree with and I will be _killed_ if anyone sees us."

"You will not be killed. Nothing bad will happen to you. Trust me."

Her head shook from side to side of its own accord. " No... NO. This is crazy. We are _not_ having this conversation. I'm not talking to you about this! In fact, I'm leaving now and I'm going to pretend neither of us were ever here. And if you could just stop speaking to me altogether, that would be great." She turned away from him and began to make her way to the entrance.

"_Bonnie_." He called after her, but she continued forward her head still shaking. "Bonnie!... Fine then, I suppose we shall just meet back here at say... 11? Yes?"

"No!"


	5. Wax on Wax off

**DISCLAIMED! I OWN NOTHING!**

**First, I just want to apologize for getting this up a day late, I really had a difficult time with this chapter. Hopefully it turned out okay. Sorry about that guys! Second, thank you for being the most supportive people in the world! You guys rock! OVER ONE HUNDRED REVIEWS! WOO!**

**Unfortunately I might not be posting anything next week, 'cause I have this 5000 word essay due on the 15th that I haven't started yet and it's kind of freaking me out... so I should probably work on that. P.S. - I don't know anything about horse riding, so I'm sorry if there's any misinformation. I googled like crazy to try and make it accurate. P.P.S. - Did anyone notice the way Damon sang Bonnie's name in the last episode? That's exactly how I imagined him saying it in the last chapter when he's calling after her! It's all coming together guys... it's all coming together.**

**Food for Thought: I find that all the characters on TVD tend to isolate themselves. I doubt it's intentional, it's probably just poor writting, but I thought I'd examine it a little in this chapter through Bonnie.**

**

* * *

**

Massaging the stiff muscles in her neck, Bonnie made her way down the long main hall at a leisurely pace. A young woman stood at the other end of the hallway carrying a basket of what looked like freshly washed vegetables. She turned towards Bonnie and catching sight of her, smiled warmly in greeting. Bonnie paused slightly before smiling back. With that the young woman continued out of sight, most likely towards the kitchen.

Dinner wouldn't be for another couple of hours still, but Bonnie could already feel the petite rumblings of her stomach alerting her to the hunger to come. She was on her last room of the day: the library. Once she was done that she had the rest of the day to herself... to do what, she wasn't sure of yet, but that was beside the point.

The Salvatore library was probably her favourite room in the mansion. It was beautiful, immaculately organized and slightly intimidating, but there was an underlying sense of comfort that the presence of the books managed to provide. Something about the smell of books – new, old, it didn't matter – was inviting to her, so she looked forward to her time spent there. But when Bonnie walked into the expansive room today, she froze.

Behind the ornate desk with his nose buried in a rather heavy looking volume sat Damon Salvatore, and not too far to the right of him, in one of the imposing, overstuffed chairs was Stefan looking over a newspaper. Neither one seemed to be aware of her presence and so she contemplated her ability to leave the room for cleaning until tomorrow morning without getting into trouble.

Ever in tune with her plots for escape, Damon chose that moment to look up, catching her eye with his. A ghost of a smirk played with the corner of his lips as he simply watched her hesitate in the doorway.

_I can still leave. He doesn't know why I came in here. Maybe I took a wrong turn?_

Damon lifted an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to make some sort choice. No. Challenging her to make a choice; daring her to stay. Her eyes narrowed reflexively and she was in the room before she even realized she had made the decision to move.

She couldn't see it, but she just _knew_ he was smiling, so resolutely she concentrated on her work. An hour or so passed like this. All three of them occupied in their own tasks, a few words being passed between the brothers now and then, and then the silence would resume. Bonnie was almost finished the entire room when Stefan spoke suddenly.

"There is to be a carnival passing through town this week."

"Oh?" Damon answered distractedly.

"Yes." Stefan hesitated briefly before continuing on, "Do you suppose... Miss Katherine would enjoy the carnival?"

Damon looked up at this, studying his brother for a moment before replying flippantly, "How am I to know? Do you I look like Miss Katherine? If you wish to ask her, do so."

"Yes, of course." Stefan said more for his own benefit than anyone else's. He paused a moment, longer than the last and then tried a different approach. "Do women enjoy the carnival? Is that appropriate?"

"Stefan." Damon managed to sound completely exhausted.

"I only ask since you have more... experience with the fairer sex," Damon glanced in Bonnie's direction, their eyes meeting before she quickly directed her attention elsewhere, frowning to herself. She hadn't realized she had been watching him. "I thought you might be able to offer some advice."

"Very well, my advice is this: ask Miss Katherine to the carnival. Do it soon or I shall beat you to it."

"Damon." Exasperation coloured his voice.

"I am serious, little brother. If you do not make the effort to escort her, I will. It would be such a shame for all that beauty to go unappreciated. I certainly appreciate it."

Leather being rubbed by cotton signalled Stefan rising to his feet. "Miss Katherine usually takes to the garden at this time of day, does she not?"

"I believe so."

"If you will excuse me...?"

"By all means..."

Bonnie peeked over her shoulder and watched Stefan toss his paper on the side table and walk out the door. Turning back to her work, she tried to relax. There was no way she would let him know she was uncomfortable, because she _wasn't_... she had no reason to be uncomfortable. Right? Exactly.

Dusting rhythmically, she waited for him to say something.

And waited.

And waited...

Looking back over her shoulder at the desk she found him still reading away. Her eyes swept over the picture he made with his head bowed slightly; hair falling across his forehead, some gathered between the fingers of the hand propped against his temple. Her eyes drifted down coming to rest on his collar which was unbuttoned to what she would have believed to be an inappropriate degree for this time period but seemed to be the fashion for those with nowhere to be. From this angle she could just make out a hint of collarbone –

What the hell was she doing? Shaking her head she focused even harder on her work. Unfortunately that lost its charm sometime 15 hours ago and couldn't hold her attention for very long. Ignoring the blaring warning bells in head that she was about to do something stupid, Bonnie decided to break the silence.

"What are you reading?"

Lifting his eyes away from the book and onto her, he offered her a raised eyebrow before replying shortly. "Dante's Inferno" He then let his eyes drop back to the book.

Okay... "Is it any good?"

"Yes." He answered, not even bothering to look at her this time.

WTF? What the heck was going on? Glancing around the room just to make sure there wasn't anyone else there that she hadn't noticed before, she found it to be empty besides them. Weird. "Is there something wrong with you?"

"I'm perfectly healthy, thank you for asking."

Rolling her eyes to the ceiling, she begged whatever was out there for patience. _Always a smartass_. It seemed there were some similarities between the two Damons after all. "That's not what I meant. Why are you ignoring me?"

Looking up in mock surprise he responded, "Ignoring you? Why, Bonnie, I'm simply doing as you requested, or do you not recall?"

Narrowing her eyes she tried to figure out what he meant. A sudden "Oh" escaped from her lips as she remembered asking him to not to talk to her anymore last night in the stables. She felt herself frown. She didn't actually think he'd listen to her, and it bothered her to discover that it bothered her that he actually had.

"To be honest," he continued, "I hadn't actually believed you meant it, until you failed to appear for our... illicit meeting, as you so eloquently put it."

Her already narrowed eyes narrowed further. "I told you I wasn't coming. It's not my fault you convinced yourself I was."

Lips pulled down, he let out a "humph" before turned back to his book.

Struggling, Bonnie managed to reign in the desire to throw a book at him as she spun sharply to face the shelves. God, he was so... annoying! It didn't matter what time period, he seemed to know exactly how to piss her off. Breathing deeply, she slowly felt her frustration ease out of her.

This was a good thing. Now he'd leave her alone. That's exactly what she wanted. This was good.

"I'm disappointed, you know." Damon's voice drifted over to her, sounding almost as if he didn't want to be heard.

She faced him then, her brow furrowing. He was staring sightlessly at his book. "Excuse me?" She could feel the frustration beginning to boil again, just beneath the surface of her skin.

"I had thought you were different."

"Different how?"

"I couldn't tell you. I... I have never met anyone quite like you before. I had thought..." He trailed off, his eyes peeking up at her before focusing on his book again.

Bonnie bit her lip. She had the vaguest feeling she being played like a fiddle right now, but against her better judgement, she pushed the feeling aside. "Thought what?"

"That you were like me."

"And what are you like?"

Taking his time, he lifted his eyes to meet hers. "Like a piece of the puzzle that doesn't fit."

Frowning, she tore her eyes away from his to study the point on the opposite wall just above his head, hoping that would quell the sudden ache in her chest. She had never told anyone this, not Elena, not Caroline, but sometimes she felt really out of place. Like she didn't quite fit. She couldn't explain what it was or where it stemmed from, the vague feeling of being separate from the crowd, so she'd never tried.

She had tried explaining the feeling to her Grams once, and she had said that it was a by-product of her inability to accept half of herself: the witch half. So Bonnie had strived to become comfortable in her own skin and just when she felt like she was beginning to accept her heritage, her Grams had died. Since then she had felt even more out of place. It was so _unfair_. It was unfair that Damon Salvatore might be the one to understand. This was not the type of conversation she wanted to be having with him off all people. Bonnie usually enjoyed irony, but this was just too much.

_Should I push away the only one who might understand?_ She was forced to ask herself as she became aware of the desk chair being pushed back and Damon getting to his feet. _God! Why does this have to be so difficult?_ Swallowing past the bitterness in her mouth she allowed her eyes to fall on his back as he gathered the book under his arm and started to make his way to the door. "I am." She whispered, not sure he had even heard her since there was no pause in his stride.

"I am." She repeated, firmer now. "But that doesn't mean we should start hanging out."

He spun suddenly, his brow crumpled in confusion. "Hanging out? What does that mean?"

"It's... where... It's – It's when people..." _hang out? How do I explain that?_ Sighing, she decided on another approach. "The point is we can't be friends."

"Who says we cannot be friends?" He challenged.

_Me_. Settling for something he might actually understand she answered, "The world. "

"And you care what the world thinks? If we listened to what to the world thinks, you would be ignorant simply because of who you are. But we both know that's not true."

Footsteps echoed just outside the doorway and Bonnie swung around to face the shelf. She waited a moment after they had faded before turning back to Damon.

"It's not the same thing."

"Is it not?"

"No."

Taking a small step further back into the room, he eyed her critically. "I never took you for a coward, Bonnie."

"Excuse me?" She couldn't help but feel offended.

"You heard me." He crossed the room, coming to stand directly in front of her. "I refuse to believe that anyone as fascinating as you would agree to being constrained by society."

Ignoring the fact that he had just called her fascinating, she felt it was her turn to do some critical eye searching and focused on what he was really saying. "I know what you're doing. I'm not an idiot."

A spark entered his eyes that betrayed the otherwise innocent expression of his face. "Doing? What am I doing?"

"You're trying to goad me into doing something reckless."

He smirked mischievously, "I haven't the faintest idea what you mean." He stepped away from her and made for the door, stopping just before he reached it. "I have an inkling that I could be found at the stables tonight... if anyone were looking for me."

Without a second glance he exited. Oh, he was good, but if he thought that he could manipulate her into doing what he wanted he sorely mistaken.

* * *

"I can't believe I'm doing this."

Damon smiled over at her as he finished fastening the saddle on Lenore "You will not regret it."

"I already do." She said more to herself than him. How she had managed to convince herself that this would be a good idea was beyond her. She had no reason to be here and every reason not to, and yet, here she was.

She followed a few paces behind him as he led Lenore out of the stables, scolding herself silently the entire way. _I shouldn't be encouraging him, _she thought darkly to herself. If there was one thing she knew about Damon, either version: you gave him an inch and he took a mile. She had no intention of becoming friends with him, but by coming out here he was sure to believe otherwise.

She was just so _bored_. There was _nothing _to do here! She had been lying on her bed staring at the off-white colour of her walls contemplating making shadow puppets with the candlelight when she had thought, _Fuck it. I'd rather be riding a horse._ Next thing she knew she was sneaking out of the servant's quarters and making her way towards the stables.

If Emily ever found out about this, she'd be pissed.

_That's why Emily will __**never**__ find out about this. This is a one-time thing._

"Here should be far enough." Damon's voice cut through her thoughts. She looked around to find them in a large open field, far enough away from the main establishment that the grass was slightly overgrown from lack of attention.

"Is this land yours?"

"Yes, all the way down to that post." He pointed off into the distance. There was no way she'd be able to make it out in this dark though. The moon provided just enough light to see a few feet in front of her. She could see Lenore fairly easily due to the light catching her mane and she could just distinguish Damon, his features rather indistinct, except for his eyes, which almost seemed to glow in the darkness. "Or where I believe the post to be."

Apparently he couldn't see anything either. She tried not to be amused by this, but allowed a tiny smirk to pull at her lips.

"How am I supposed to ride if I can't see?"

"You don't need to see in order to ride a horse."

She lifted a sceptic eyebrow that she was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to perceive and so added for good measure, "You don't?"

"No, not at all. Riding is about synchronicity, becoming one with the horse."

She almost expected him to add _Wax on. Wax off._ She felt her tiny smirk grow a little bigger. "I'd still feel more comfortable if I could see, considering I've never done this before."

"I'll be with you. You will be perfectly safe."

His words of reassurance did nothing to ease her discomfort. If anything, they made her _more_ uncomfortable. Was she really about to get on horse in the pitch black with Damon Salvatore and only one good arm?

_Well when I put it like that... this is truly the dumbest thing I have ever thought of doing._

"Da – Mr. Salvatore."

The sudden burst of air that escaped his lips made her jump slightly. She could just make out the abrupt change in his frame as his shoulders slumped forward. "Yes, _Miss_ Bonnie?" He asked, somehow managing to sound completely exasperated.

Noticing the emphasis he had placed on the honorific, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Are you annoyed with me?"

"No... I." He paused briefly before switching attitudes, "Yes. Yes, actually I am. If I may be so bold Bonnie, I would request that you refrain from calling me Mr. Salvatore. It makes me feel so... old."

She allowed herself to smile at that considering he wouldn't be able to see it. The idea of Damon _feeling_ old was amusing, especially when she knew him as being... Hesitantly, she asked, "How old are you?"

Tension could be seen in the outline of his frame as he processed the personal question. Slowly he answered, "Five and twenty."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, why?"

"You seem older sometimes."

"How old?" There was a line of worry colouring his voice.

"28?" She phrased it like a question, in hopes of softening the blow if she were being offensive.

"That's not terrible." Relief clear in his voice, "As long as I'm not as bad as Stefan... my brother. He's only 17, but he acts all of 52."

Her abrupt burst of laughter surprised even her. She placed a hand over her mouth to stifle it, but a few tendrils snuck through the cracks of her fingers. It was so true. Stefan was an old man in a young person's body.

Facing away from her, he gathered Lenore's reins and tossed over his shoulder, "Are you ready? I'll help you on."

Sobering, she let her hand fall back to her side; her fingers busying themselves in the creases of her skirt. "I don't know."

He spun to her then, coming close enough that she didn't need to squint to make out his features anymore. "Bonnie, trust me." He held a hand out to her, waiting for her to make her decision.

She bit her lip, weighing the pros and cons a final time before releasing a deep sigh and tentatively placing her hand in his.

It was far warmer than she had been expecting. Even though she was aware of his humanity it was strange to be reminded of it in such a concrete way. His fingers squeezed gently around hers as he pulled her towards the horse.

Once they were stopped Damon released her hand and gathered the reins again. "I'll hold her still for you." He dropped down on to one knee as if he were about to propose marriage. She must have looked as confused as she felt because he chuckled softly before clarifying, "You will need to step on my leg to be able to position yourself properly onto the saddle."

"Oh." Still feeling rather uneasy, she took a cautious step forward before pausing. Noting her trepidation, he patted his leg encouragingly. "Which foot do I use?"

"Your left." Lifting her foot, she placed it gently on his leg. "Now you'll want to take hold of the back of the saddle, but do not pull yourself up. You need to push up with your legs. Your hand is just there for balance. And once you push yourself up, you will need to bring your right leg forward in order to seat yourself."

Her head felt like spinning from all the information. Taking a calming breath, her hand gripped the smooth leather of the saddle and she began to push herself up. Lenore shifted marginally at the sudden weight being placed on her and Bonnie released her hold on the saddle, letting herself fall back down to the ground too spooked to trust herself to be able to get on the horse.

Noticing her panic, Damon was quick to place a reassuring hand on her arm. "You're fine. Everything is fine. Try again."

She stared at him with wide eyes hoping he was just joking. He simply smiled at her and nodded towards the horse. Giving herself a quick mental shake, she gathered her nerves and tried again and this time she was prepared for the subtle shifting as Lenore adjusted to her weight.

"I did it." She exclaimed, a little taken a-back at the sudden height difference. She hadn't realized how tall Lenore was. Taking in what she could make of her surroundings, she noticed something peculiar. "Why am I facing this way?"

Damon, who had risen to his feet, scrutinized her position. "I don't understand. What do you mean?"

"I'm sitting sideways on a horse... Shouldn't one of my legs be on the other side?"

"It is customary for women to ride side saddle." He stated, sounding completely perplexed, though his tone betrayed a hint of amusement. "Though you should be facing forward more than you are, and you need to place your left foot into the stirrup."

Taking the instructions, Bonnie couldn't help but feel that this position was a little unstable. "Are you sure about this?"

"Positive. Now hold on to the horn."

"What, this thing?" She pointed to the only part of the saddle that protruded.

"Yes. We are going to walk."

That was the only warning he gave before starting to lead Lenore slowly through the dark, open field. Bonnie had the horn in a death grip as she felt Lenore walk beneath her. It was an interesting feeling, completely different from riding in a car. In a car, if you had good shock absorbers, you couldn't even feel the road beneath the tires, but on a horse, you could feel every muscle working in its body as it moved. It was kind of surreal.

Bonnie's grip on the horn loosened into something firm but relaxed as she grew more comfortable with the way Lenore moved. They continued like this for a while, with Damon glancing back at her every so often. Probably to make sure she was still on the horse.

Eventually he brought the horse to a stop. Assuming he meant for her to dismount she waited for him to tell her how to get down, but he simply stood in front of Lenore, holding her reins. Not knowing what else to do, she said, "I enjoyed that more than I thought I would."

As if he had been waiting for her to say that, he smiled widely and replied. "Good, then you should love what comes next."

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. Something about that sentence screamed trouble. "What are you talking about?"

Still gripping the reins, which he manoeuvred over Lenore's head, he came to stand beside Bonnie. "If you would be so kind as to remove your foot from the stirrup, you shall know."

The alarms bells going off in her head were enough to deafen her. Whatever he had planned, it was bound to be reckless, and she told him as much.

"How would you know that? You don't know what I'm planning."

"I don't need to know what you're planning to know it's a bad idea."

Rolling his eyes, he retorted, "Humour me."

_Bonnie Bennett, you are going to regret this,_ she thought to herself even as she lifted her foot out of the stirrup. Damon didn't hesitate before placing his own in its stead and swinging himself onto the saddle behind her.

Her head spun to face him as she whispered venomously, "What are you doing?" She was desperately trying to quiet the shock resonating through her veins at suddenly being enveloped by him on all sides. His arms encircled her gently as he held the reins on either side of her, and she wasn't even going to think about his legs.

He offered up a cheeky smirk before replying, "I promised you a ride." She fought hard not to blush at the innuendo that she hoped he didn't realize he was making. "I hardly believe that a short walk across the lawn qualifies."

"Short walks are fine. I love short walks! Really, I don't need anything more than that."

An eyebrow lifted, but he didn't comment and she glared in response. The sounds of the night air seemed to get louder. Lenore shuffled underneath them, restless for something to do. Finally, Bonnie relented.

"Fine," she said as she turned forward again, "since you're on the horse already, you might as well do whatever you had planned."

Arms flexing around her, he nudged the horse into motion and they took off across the darkened field.


	6. The Signal

**Disclaim! Everything has been disclaimed!**

**-Peeking head from behind the Curtain of Shame- Hi guys... I know, I'm a horrible person for not updating in so long! I kind of just fell of the face of the earth, didn't I? Hopefully this never happens again. I'm going to try to return to updating every week or at most every other week. I'd like to thank everyone who politely badgered me for this chapter (you guys know who you are). I really appriciated it and it helped me get my game in gear and get this chapter out, so THANKS!**

**On a good note, this chapter's really long! So I hope that sort of makes up for the ridiculous wait. Also, to make it up to you guys, since I've been so negligent, I was thinking of making a short series of unconnected one-shots or drabbles based on prompts sent in by you guys... that is, if you're interested. Final A/N - The Lion King song mentioned in this chapter may be hard to remember, 'cause it's super short and I forgot it existed until I rewatched the movie recently. As such I've added a link so you can watch it for yourself, either before you read the chapter or after. It might be better to watch it before though. Just remember to take out the spaces! - **

**http:/ youtube .com / watch?v=OBE_T-K8nhY&NR=1 **

**

* * *

**

Bonnie shifted on the mattress in an attempt to get the loose spring to stop jabbing her in the thigh. She leaned back against the hard wood of the headboard, her eyes drifting shut as she let Emily's voice wash over her.

"If time were a grain of sand in an hourglass – no, not an hourglass, that's too controlled. There is an end to it. There must be no end... If time were a grain of sand on a beach... yes. It would be moved by the ocean, by waves. I must become the waves of the ocean – oh, that's absurd!" Emily's elbow poked her side gently as she readjusted herself on the bed beside her. "I must move time as the ocean moves a grain of sand. How does one do that...? If I could transfigure..."

Emily let out a deep breath and moved again as if suddenly uncomfortable. Bonnie could feel her brow pulling together in confusion, and popped an eye open to peek at her. She had never seen Emily so restless before.

"Maybe you should leave it for now?" Bonnie suggested.

"Hmm," was the only reply Emily gave her while frowning darkly, but she didn't disagree.

The mid-afternoon sun was just beginning to lower, the warm rays crawling their way across the room and onto the bed, begging Bonnie to bask in them, which she did. It felt great against the sore muscles of her legs and lower back. She had muscles hurting her that she hadn't even known existed. Who knew riding a horse would be so painful? _But definitely worth it_. She tried not to smile as she thought back to the other night.

She hadn't had so much fun in a long time, too long really. It was kind of sad that when she finally did it was with Damon Salvatore of all people. _I shouldn't even be thinking about this right now_. She glanced sideways in what she hoped was a completely inconspicuous fashion and studied Emily out of the corner of her eye. She tried to avoid thinking about her exchanges with Damon when she was around Emily, just in case she could read her mind, which she highly suspected sometimes. Irrational? Yes, but she suspected it none-the-less.

"Bonnie?" Emily turned to her and so she gave her her attention. "Are you familiar with the art of transfiguration?"

"What?"

Emily cast her eyes down as she pulled at a loose thread on her blanket. "Transfiguration is the ability to create an illusion in order to make one object appear as another. It is said that if a witch is strong enough she could make the illusion a reality."

"Meaning?"

"She would be able to quite literally transfigure one thing into another."

"Wow. Sounds useful."

She lifted her eyes back up to Bonnie's, a small smile at her lips. "Yes, it would be." Hesitantly, she placed a hand upon Bonnie's and squeezed gently. "I would like to teach you this."

Sitting up suddenly, Bonnie stared at her incredulously. "Which part?"

"I myself have yet to master changing one object into another, but I could teach you how to cast an illusion. It may prove beneficial to know."

"Okay. Sure."

Moving off the bed, Emily snatched a spare quill from the small jar on her writing desk before coming back. Bonnie scooted closer to the edge of the bed to make more room for her and Emily sat back down beside her, leaving a pocket of space between them. She smoothed out the surface of the blanket with her hand before placing the quill on top of it. Reaching forward she took Bonnie's good hand in her own and brought it to hover over the quill.

"Now you must clear your mind of all other things. Create a clear image of what you wish the quill to become and slowly imagine the quill shifting into that object. Do you have an image?"

Bonnie, eyes closed in concentration, pictured the sleek silver lines of a letter opener before turning her thoughts back to the quill and trying to imagine what it would have to do to become that letter opener. After a few attempts Bonnie felt her confidence rise. "Yes."

"Good. Now repeat after me." Together they slowly recited the ancient spell, over and over again until a pressure started to build between them. There was a heat emanating from the quill and with each recitation of the spell it grew warmer, almost burning the skin along her arm and hand that was still entwined with Emily's. An itch began just behind her hairline, but she tried to ignore it.

Wasn't that always the case. Whenever you couldn't use your hands there was some part of you begging to be scratched. Focusing harder on the quill, the pressure continued to build, but the itch seemed to build with it. Just when the pressure felt too much to handle, like her skin was on fire, the feeling dissipated leaving a sudden chill in the air and with it left the itch.

"It is done." Emily stated in hush tones.

Looking down to where the quill once was, Bonnie was a little taken a-back to find her imagined letter opener sitting in its stead. Pleasure bubbled up in her chest as she reached to pick it up. "Hey, it worked."

As soon as her fingers brushed against the blade, she could feel her little bubbles of pleasure start to burst. Picking it up, she inspected her handy-work. It _looked_ like a letter opener, but it certainly didn't feel like one. The weight was all wrong, and there was something really off about its texture. It was soft to the touch. To be honest, it still felt like a feather, which made the sensation of holding it kind of disturbing, but the kind of disturbing that was slightly addictive.

"Is it supposed to still feel like a feather?" Bonnie asked, twirling it between her palms, mesmerized by the clash of sensory input. When Emily didn't answer, Bonnie glanced at her from under her lashes and what she saw was more disturbing than the weird 'feather/letter-opener.'

Straightening up, Bonnie narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Emily seemed to be experiencing a clash of sensory input herself, her face completely indecipherable as she studied Bonnie intently. Slowly, she spoke, a smile finally breaking across her features, "You may want to see this."

Getting up from the bed, Bonnie followed Emily across her room to her little vanity. Picking up her handheld mirror she held it for Bonnie to see. Completely confused Bonnie peered at her reflection and screamed.

"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO MY HAIR?" It was white! No. Not just white, snow white! Pure, unadulterated freshly-fallen-snow-white! And to make matters worse, Emily had the audacity to be laughing at her.

"You think this is funny?" Bonnie snapped, unable to keep the shock from seeping into her voice. Great way to find out Emily has a sense of humour... Feeling childishly vexed, Bonnie sought to sober her. "What if someone sees me like this? How am I supposed to explain this away?"

Emily's laughter quieted till all that remained was a carefree smile, "You have nothing to fear. We have finished our work for today and tomorrow is a free day; you can haul away in your room for then. No one will see you, and by the time you are needed the spell should have run its course. It is just an illusion after all. It will fade eventually."

Still feeling vexed she couldn't help being a pessimist. "And if it doesn't?"

"Then we'll take matters into our own hands." Emily countered brightly, her smile never fading, "How you've managed this at all I cannot begin to fathom."

"You and me both." Bonnie whispered darkly to herself. Crossing in front of Emily, she picked up her mirror and took in her reflection. Turning her head every which way, she couldn't help but smirk. Now that she wasn't side-swept by the shock of seeing her hair, she had to admit it wasn't terrible. _I kind of look like Storm. That's pretty kick-ass._

Placing the mirror back down, Bonnie turned her attention to more important things. "Do all illusions fade eventually?"

"The stronger the witch, the stronger the illusion, the less likely it will be to fade on its own. A counter-spell will more than likely become necessary."

"If there are counter-spells why don't we just use one to fix this?" She asked, pointing to her hair.

Emily's smile shifted until it was something closer to wicked. "It may prove to be a useful learning experiencing, no?"

"Uh, no."

* * *

_Thank God Emily wasn't serious_, Bonnie couldn't help but think to herself for millionth time that day as she worked her way through the mansion. She couldn't imagine having actually had to spend her free day trapped inside her room waiting for her hair to become normal. Emily had had her going for a while there though. For a good hour, she had pretty much convinced Bonnie she wasn't going to help her. To say she freaked out would be pretty accurate, and of course, Emily found this hilarious.

It was weird seeing Emily so light and youthful. Really, she was probably around the same age as her_. _It was disconcerting to think about. The only time Bonnie had really 'interacted' with Emily before had been during the whole amulet debacle and she had seemed so... untrustworthy, like she was playing games with her. Here she always seemed so burdened that sometimes Bonnie forgot that there was more to her than just her powers.

She only really talked to her about magic and the spell, now that she thought about it. Was how she interacted with Emily any different from how Elena and the others used her now-a-days? Bonnie shook her head, suddenly frustrated with herself. At least Elena and she had history together to make up for the way Bonnie was letting herself be treated lately, but Emily... they didn't even know each other. She was acting out of some familial obligation.

_Alright, note to self: try hanging out with Emily at least once without letting her bring up magic._ She couldn't handle the thought of using someone and the least she could was try to get to know her ancestor.

Walking slowly down the hallway towards the parlour, which was kind of like a modern day living room (minus the T.V.), Bonnie stopped periodically to dust the portraits that aligned the walls on either side of her. Just across from the parlour doors hung her favourite painting in the entire house. It was of an angel or so Bonnie thought, since no one that beautiful could be human. It wasn't an ordinary beauty; it seemed to seep through canvas from _within_ the woman to steal one's breath away. It wasn't a vain beauty either. There was far too much kindness in her eyes and her shy smile.

Her hair was dark and cascading, slightly curled, but the curls were loose, lazy and relaxed as they fell around her face, framing her. Her skin was pale, but not sickly looking, and her cheeks rosy. She had eyes so blue they leapt from the painting with a life of their own and the blue of her dress only furthered the effect. Around her neck hung a simple pendant off a white gold chain, she couldn't tell what type of stone it was but it seemed to contain every colour imaginable inside its tiny tear drop shaped frame. Bonnie had a hard time tearing her eyes away the woman every time she passed.

Behind her, indecipherable voices floated from behind the parlour doors. Frowning, she crossed to them, making to open them when one of the voices made her freeze.

"That's what I like most about you, Damon. I feel I can tell you anything and not be shunned for it."

Katherine.

Bonnie's heart wanted to go into double time, but she took deep, hopefully silent, breaths to calm it.

"Who am I to judge? If my father had the means he would ship me off to Africa just to hide from all the shame I've brought him." Damon answered, his voice light and flirty. Katherine laughed prettily in response.

_Great_, _she's working her mojo on him_. Bonnie rolled her eyes in annoyance and then bit down on her lip as she weighed her options.

"We two are very similar. I find that you and I have a connection, don't you?"

She really didn't want Katherine to think she was eavesdropping, which she would if Bonnie continued to stand outside the door because there was no doubt she could hear her heart beating. But should she just leave and allow Katherine to sink her claws into Damon, as she was clearly beginning to? Or should she risk being flayed alive and break up the little love fest?

"What of the connection you share with my brother?"

Bonnie's eyebrows shot up, impressed with Damon's sudden tactical challenge. Maybe Damon wasn't completely blind after all. Maybe he could fend for himself.

"Stefan?" Katherine asked, feigning confusion. "Stefan's sweet, but he lacks a certain _thirst for life_. He's not like us. We understand each other..."

A sudden hush fell in the room, making Bonnie shift uncomfortably. It was too quiet. There was only one thing Bonnie could think of that would allow for this much silence and she really hoped they weren't doing it. Grimacing at the suspicion playing in her mind, she squared her shoulders.

_Obviously Damon is willing to toss himself under a hungry lion, but luckily for him,__** I'm**__ here to save him – the moron. What part of 'messy situation' appeals to him so damn much?_ Shaking her head she couldn't help but compare current events to events of the 21st century... not much had changed.

Lifting her hand, she hesitated slightly before pushing the doors open with maybe a little more force than necessary. Katherine and Damon jumped apart, swinging around to face her, looking shocked and in Damon's case slightly guilty. Bonnie tried not to eye Katherine as she made her way further into the room. Katherine had no reason to look shocked other than to fool Damon, but clearly she must have known Bonnie had been outside the doors. She wanted them to be caught... the question was: why?

Clearing his throat awkwardly, his cheeks warm from embarrassment, Damon looked everywhere but at Bonnie as she crossed in front of them to the other side of the room. She chose the spot in front of the ornate mirror to start dusting since it allowed her to keep an eye on them without having to face them directly, and let's be honest, she was paying them far more attention than her work.

From the corner of her eye she watched Katherine slither back up to Damon. Watched as she leaned in close to whisper something in his ear that made his already red cheeks burn brighter, his lips pulling up into a small smile, obviously enjoying the attention.

Bonnie fought hard not to scoff in disgust, but couldn't stop herself from glaring daggers at Katherine's reflected back. _What a monstrous, two-faced –_ Bonnie took a deep, calming breath, letting the air expand her lungs until they felt they would burst before slowly breathing it out. How someone could willingly pit two brothers against each other she couldn't understand. And what was worse, he was letting her tear his relationship with his brother apart.

_It's true. All men think with their dicks,_ she thought bitterly.

Damon's eyes travelled over Katherine's head as she continued whispering whatever filthy things she was whispering and found Bonnie's in the mirror. He looked away almost immediately, the smile fading from his lips. Then to both Katherine's surprise and Bonnie's, he took a giant step away from Katherine and cleared his throat, throwing his eyes around the room until they rested on the piano forte in one corner.

Walking over to it, he sat down at its bench and played a few notes experimentally before glancing over his shoulder. "Miss Katherine. I'll play something, if you will accompany me."

Watching Katherine shift in the mirror, Bonnie got the sense that she was uncomfortable. Thinking about it it made sense, considering Elena couldn't sing to save her life and since she and Katherine were identical, both physically and vocally... _No one_ would want to hear Katherine sing if she sounded anything like Elena. Bonnie felt oddly satisfied knowing this and had to bit her lip to stop from smirking wickedly.

"Oh, well perhaps if I know the song." She answered vaguely.

"I will play one you're sure to know. _Long, Long Ago_. Everyone knows that one."

"Alas, I do not. I have never heard it."

_Bullshit_, Bonnie thought, her smirk getting a little wider.

He turned to Katherine fully then, his brow furrowed, completely flummoxed. "Is that so?"

"I'm afraid it is."

"Huh," he breathed, turning back to the piano and playing idly. "How about _America_? Surely you know that one..."

"Please, no."Bonnie muttered under her breath, her smirk sliding from her face. Patriotic songs always had a nasty tendency of looping in her head until she felt like she was losing her mind.

Having heard her complaint, Katherine's eyes snapped to hers in the mirror and Bonnie looked away, struggling to keep her heart from beating too fast and giving away her moment of panic. She focused on the rhythm of her strokes as she dusted and that seemed to help.

"Girl?"

Bonnie froze. Damon's idle playing, which had given the impression of practised skill, suddenly hit a rough patch before coming to an end.

"Have you not been standing in the same place since you walked in?" Katherine's voice sent needles of ice up and down her spine, despite how sweet and unassuming she tried to sound. "Surely the shelf is not that dusty."

Mustering up what courage she had, Bonnie lifted her eyes to the mirror and met Katherine's. "Oh, you'd be surprised."

Katherine's eyes narrowed slightly, scrutinizing her as an empty smile climbed her cheeks. She opened her mouth to say something but Damon interrupted before she could.

"Miss Katherine, since I cannot persuade you to sing we will be forced to find some other way to occupy our time."

Turning to face him, her smile melted into something more natural. "Under different circumstances I'm certain we could find many ways to entertain ourselves, but as it is..."

Damon blushed lightly at the subtle insinuation, one corner of his lips quirking slightly. "Yes, that is a pity."

Bonnie fought the sudden urge to throw something hard at him and settled for rolling her eyes discretely instead. Not nearly as satisfying.

"Perhaps a walk into town would interest you? It is a beautiful day, and I am long overdue to visit my dear friend Pearl."

"Ah," Damon began, sounded reluctant, "were it any other day I would be happy to escort you. Unfortunately I have business with my father I need to discuss and cannot be away from the house for any length of time."

"I see." Katherine said, sounding disappointed, but there was a wicked gleam in her eyes that tainted the effect. "Well that is no matter. I am certain Stefan will be happy to take me in your stead."

And sending one last flirty smile his way, she exited the room in pursuit of Stefan.

"As am I." Damon muttered to himself, louder than was probably intentional. He sat, his back to the piano, shoulders tensed and yet slopped forward, his brow furrowed. He looked... conflicted. Bonnie eyed him curiously.

"Do you really have business?" She asked after a few moments of silence, her curiosity getting the better of her.

His eyes lifted to hers in the mirror and she turned to face him directly, not even bothering to pretend to dust anymore.

"Yes... And also I wished to speak with you in regards to last night."

Suddenly wishing she was still pretending to dust so she wouldn't have to look at him, Bonnie shifted her weight back and forth before settling most of it on her right leg. "What about it?"

"I agree. We should not make a habit of it."

She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to remember what he was referring to.

* * *

_**The night air was starting to leave a chill under her skin as Damon slowed Lenore down to a halt. With practised ease he dismounted before releasing the reins and turning to her, his arms**_ _**stretched out to her as if waiting for her to give him something. She looked at him questioningly and he smiled in return.**_

"_**Are you coming down? Or were you planning on living up there?"**_

_**She rolled her eyes, before narrowing them at him. "How am I supposed to get down when you haven't told me how to?"**_

_**Arms still outstretched, he stepped towards her, his hands level with her waist but not touching. "It's no great science. Simply fall forward and I will catch you."**_

_**She was shaking her head before she even realized it. "That doesn't sound like the proper technique."**_

_**He dropped his arms then, a deep sigh leaving him. When he spoke he sounded exasperated. "If it will put your mind at ease you may use the stirrup as a step and **_**step**_** into my arms."**_

"_**Is there really no better way to do this?"**_

"_**Bonnie..." He sang tiredly.**_

"_**It just doesn't sound entirely convincing."**_

"_**You know, I'm beginning to believe you have trust issues."**_

**Yeah, and you have yourself to thank for that,**_** she just managed to stop herself from saying aloud. Instead she released a long, steady breath before asking, "So I just step out and you'll catch me?"**_

"_**I promise." **_

_**Bonnie hesitated for a moment before letting go of the horn and turning to sit sideways on the horse. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she pushed herself away from the horse and into Damon Salvatore's waiting arms.**_

_**She could feel the heat of his hands through the cotton of her dress as he held her securely around the waist. Slowly, he lowered her gently to the ground, until her feet were firmly planted.**_

_**Her good hand, which had found his shoulder on her short journey to the ground, drifted back down to her skirt to lose itself in its folds. Damon, ever the gentleman, didn't allow his hands to linger where they were no longer needed. Once certain she was on her own two feet he turned his attention to gathering the reins, but not before throwing her a self-satisfied smirk.**_

_**As Damon began to lead Lenore back to the stables, Bonnie couldn't resist sticking her out at his retreating form despite how childish it made her feel. There was some satisfaction to be found in the fact that she had just insulted him without him even knowing. Talk about petty...**_

_**The walk back to the stables was quiet, but the silence didn't feel strained or put on. It was comfortable, like in that moment nothing needed to be said. It wasn't until Damon had Lenore back in her stall and ready for the night he finally broke the silence.**_

"_**Was that as terrible as you imagined it would be?" He asked. The light hanging from one of the posts was doing amazing things with his eyes; it was difficult to look away.**_

"_**No... I'll admit, it wasn't awful." **_

"_**Good." He smiled at her and she didn't stop herself from smiling softly in return.**_

_**Glancing back at Lenore as she rustled in her stall, Bonnie swallowed her pride. "Thank you – for teaching me how to ride."**_

_**Stepping forward, he entered the outskirts of her personal space. "You're quite welcome."**_

_**The damn lights in the stable were going to drive her crazy. The constantly dancing candlelight played with the sharp angles of his features, painting interesting shadows across his cheekbones and his eyes were such a clear blue they seemed to capture the flames of the candles and reflect it back.**_

_**Bonnie felt a sudden need to move, to put distance between them. Swallowing around the unexpected dryness of her throat, she somehow managed to tear her eyes away from his and focused a point between his eyebrows.**_

"_**Look, as fun as this was, it won't be happening again. It would be in both of our best interests if we didn't make this a habit."**_

_**Not waiting for a response, Bonnie left the stables and a very perplexed Damon Salvatore in her wake.**_

_**

* * *

**_

Now here he was throwing her words back at her. Coming back to the present, she jumped slightly when she saw him right in front of her. When had he moved?

"Where did you go?" He asked, smirking at her.

"I was just thinking," she said, shrugging it off and charging on before he could question further, "So you agree we should stop speaking to each other."

"Now, I never said that. I said we shouldn't make it a habit. We're less likely to be caught if our meetings are infrequent."

Her eyes felt like they might pop out of her head as she registered what he was saying to her. "How does that make any sense to you?"

His brow crumpled, his mouth pulling down into a tiny frown in one corner. "Are you implying that I'm being illogical?"

"No, Damon. I'm applauding your brilliance." She snapped, before wondering if sarcasm even existed in 1864. Taking in his less than amused expression she'd go ahead and say yes.

"Oh, and now you're being facetious. That's lovely." He looked away from her then, and studied the windows that lined the left of her. "Sometimes I wonder why I bother."

Something about that remark made her gut twist uncomfortably. "What is that supposed to mean?"

He eyes snapped back to hers, pinning her to the spot. "Does my presence offend you, Bonnie? Is that it? Do you dislike me? Have you simply been biting your tongue from what you truly wish to say to me because of your position in my household? If that's –"

"Stop. Please." Damon had a tendency to ask twenty questions at once: it was enough to make her head spin. What was worse was that she had no idea how to answer these ones.

Did she dislike Damon Salvatore? Yes.

Did she dislike the man standing in front of her who happened to be named Damon Salvatore?

"No." She answered, surprising them both. The twisting in her gut seemed to intensify with this revelation and she had to wipe her suddenly sweaty palm on the back of her skirt, but she managed to look him in the eye when she continued. "I don't dislike you. If I had a problem with you, I would tell you."

The brightness of his smile was almost blinding and she tried not to feel too self-conscious as she rubbed her neck. "I had to be certain. I often forget how... forceful I can be. And you being in the position you are, you may not have felt at liberty to speak with me candidly."

"Believe me, that's not the case."

"Good." He continued, a tension visibly seeping out of him. "Then what reason is there for us not to meet one another when we wish?"

"Besides the obvious pain of death... nothing."

"Precisely." He agreed, clearly choosing to ignore the whole pain of death thing – or so she hoped. "I wish to be your friend Bonnie."

_And I wish you'd stop looking at me like that. _His eyes bored into hers as he waited for some sort of reply. She didn't remember 2010 Damon's stare being this intense.

Attempting to divert his attention slightly, she raised the question, "How are we going to schedule these little meetings? Every Monday and Thursday?"

His eyes travelled to the ceiling in thought, and suddenly it was easier to breath. "I suppose that is one way we could go about it. Or perhaps... a signal of some fashion. Something only we two would recognize."

"Like passing notes?"

"No. A note could be read by anyone. Something less concrete. Something one can carry on them always..." He drifted as he thought about it.

What was something that she could carry? "A tune?"

"Yes. A tune: brilliant!"

She hadn't realized she'd spoken out loud.

"It would have to be easy to remember. Do _you_ know _Long, Long Ago_?"

She shook her head. "What is your obsession with this song?"

He rolled his eyes. "I was making a suggestion. It's not as if you're being so forthcoming."

"I came up with the idea!"

"Well your idea has only gotten us so far. If we have no song, there will be no signal. Now, do you know of any?"

Bonnie stopped to think for a while. That while stretched on for some time, with Damon making the odd suggestion of songs she had never heard of, until finally he turned to her, exclaiming, "Have you not thought of one yet?"

Bonnie could feel a heat spread painfully across her cheeks. She had thought of one alright, and no matter how hard she tried to think of another she kept coming back to it... but it was so embarrassing.

When she was really little, she, Elena and Caroline had all been obsessed with Disney. When she said obsessed, she meant _obsessed_. Caroline had actually been convinced that she would grow up to be a Disney princess, like that was a career position or something, and nothing anyone could say could convince her otherwise.

Bonnie's favourite was The Lion King. She had every song memorized (even the sequels'), but there was one song in particular that had a special place in her heart. The weekend Bonnie had gotten the movie on VHS, and she brought it over to Caroline's house and they (plus Elena) proceeded to watch it in a continuous loop. Caroline's favourite part of the movie was when Timon distracted the hyenas with a hula dance and song. No matter how many times she saw it, she laughed like it was the first time.

A few months later, Caroline's dad left for good and Caroline was a wreck. Nothing would cheer her up. Elena and Bonnie tried to spend as much time with her as possible, but she barely spoke to them. It was like being in a room with a shadow, which was really hard take since Caroline had always been the bubbly one.

One day, as Caroline sat on her bed staring at her wall despondently with Bonnie and Elena on the floor leaning against the side of the bed near her feet, Bonnie began to sing the hula song to herself. Hearing her, Elena eventually joined in. A noise from the bed made them pause mid-lyric and they looked at each other, having a silent conversation.

Getting up to her feet, like she did it every day, Bonnie faced Caroline and began to not only sing, but enact the little scene from memory. Elena was quick to catch on and took on Pumbaa's role with complete and utter conviction.

Bonnie had to give Caroline some credit, she held out for quite a while before finally breaking down into a rolling fit of laughter on her bed as her two best friends continued to make fools of themselves. And to this day, no matter how big the problem seemed to be, the hula song (especially when accompanied by embarrassing dance) was guaranteed to pull at least a smile from her.

And now, for some reason she couldn't get it out of her head.

"Well?" Damon asked, impatience starting to colour his tone.

Suddenly finding his simple white cotton shirt fascinating, Bonnie refused to meet his eye. "There's one song..."

In her periphery she could make out him lifting an eyebrow at her.

Oh God, was she really going to do this?

Feeling like her face was on fire, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before singing. "_Luau! If you're hungry for a hunk of fat and juicy meat/ Eat my buddy Pumbaa here, because he is a treat."_ With her eyes closed it wasn't so bad. She could pretend she was doing it for Caroline. Feeling herself relax a little she began to bob her head.

"_Come on down and dine/ On a tasty swine/ All you have to do is get in line!"_

Her favourite part was coming up and as she sang it, she started to do the corresponding movements she had choreographed when she was 7, just like she always did. "_Aaaaare you achin' (Yup, yup, yup)/ Fooooor some bacon (Yup, yup, yup)/Heee's a big pig (Yup, yup)/ You can be a big pig too! Oy!"_

If Bonnie hadn't have been running on autopilot at that moment she would have made a conscious decision to leave out the pelvic thrust at the end.

Somewhat frozen in horror by her own actions, Bonnie slowly opened her eyes and brought her hand back down from where it had gone to her head in the last action. Tentatively, she raised her eyes to meet the wide, surprised eyes of Damon. If she wasn't so embarrassed she would have found his slack-jawed expression funny.

He stared at her for a long moment, obviously struggling to process what he had just witnessed and then, slowly at first, he began to shake. It took her a second to realize he was laughing, because initially he made no noise, but soon enough his laughter was bouncing off the walls and enveloping her on all sides.

It was times like these she wished she could melt into the floor. _Now that would be a useful power_.

Bonnie waited as patiently as she could for his laughter to die down, but each time he seemed to gather himself together his eyes would meet hers and he would curl in on himself, shoulders shaking with mirth. It was really annoying.

"What – in the world – was that?" He somehow managed through his incessant laughter.

Oh great. Now she had to think of a plausible back story for a Disney song. "It's, uh... it's a... really... popular... folksong from Canada." Sure. Why not? She was Canadian after all.

"Damon? Is that you?" Stefan's voice called from the hallway, warning them of his entrance only seconds before he appeared himself.

_Isn't he supposed to be in town with Katherine?_ And yet, here he was.

"What could possibly be so funny? I could hear you from the other end of the hall."

Gaining some composure, Damon managed to straighten up, but he couldn't quite quell the laughter completely nor did he bother to wipe the huge smile off his face. Looking about the room his eyes landed upon the windows. "I... I saw father trip and... it was very amusing."

Stefan frowned, "That's not funny at all. That's terrible."

Damon pressed his lips together in thin line and nodded his head gravely, "Yes, of course. You're quite right. I'm a terrible person. I should atone for my sins. And I shall, right after a trip to the kitchens. I seem to have... an achin' for some bacon."

It took all of Bonnie's will-power not to groan out loud.

Stefan's eyebrows shot up to hid behind his bangs. "I beg your pardon?"

Walking over to him, Damon placed an arm around his shoulders and leaned in as if they were conspiring together. "Perhaps I can convince chef to cook some for breakfast tomorrow." Throwing his head back as he laughed, he released Stefan and made his leisurely way down the hall.

Stefan watched him go, before turning to eye Bonnie curiously. She felt like she was being x-rayed by Superman and began to shift uncomfortably. The back of her legs bumped the shelf gently and she decided now was a good a time as any to finish her long-forgotten work, but she didn't manage to fully relax until she heard Stefan's footsteps retreating down the hall.


	7. A Can of Worms

**Yay! I finally found time to post this chapter! So firstly, thank you everyone, for being amazing! Secondly, I'm taking an Empires and Revolutions course this year and we're lookin at the American Revolution right now, and in particular the issues surronding The Abolition Movement. Some serious debating was going on, but after reading some of the primary documents I feel like I've gotten a clearer picture of what life was like back then for slaves and freeborns (and being of African decent myself, trust me when I say some of those documents are hell-a hard to get through). So I've decided to try not to shy away from the ugly truth of the situation as much as I have been, though I won't be making it my focus either.**

**Food For Thought: Looking over this story, I'm not really happy with the pacing. I would have definitely slowed it down if I wasn't so impatient. As it is, Bonnie still sees Damon as two different people: Human Damon and Vampire Damon. Eventually she's going to have to realize that despite the huge attitude change, they are in fact the same person. I don't know how well she's going to handle that... or when she'll even have to deal with it, but something tells me it will be sooner rather than later. Especially with my pacing issues...**

**P.S. Did anyone else love how incredible BADASS Bonnie was in today's episode? She's so awesome!**

**

* * *

**

The noise in the open aired market was overwhelming. It was nothing like the city's noise pollution with engines from cars and the constant hum of electrical current being feed through the ground. No, in some ways this noise was bigger. The sound of hooves and carriage wheels moving up and down dirt ridden streets; children running through the skirts of their mothers as they made their purchases; a crier trying to sell the paper; voices... just so many voices as people called out to each other and merchants tried to entice passers-by.

It was a noise full of life something the likes of which Bonnie had never heard before. She followed Emily through the bustling small town street towards what looked to be an apothecary. Speeding up slightly she caught Emily's elbow right before the front door.

"I thought we agreed today there'd be no witchy stuff." She said leaning in to ensure no one overheard her.

She could feel Emily tense beneath her fingers as she turned to her. "Yes. I'm aware of that, but it would seem I had forgotten I'm almost out of oregano when I made that promise. It will only take a moment."

Bonnie studied her as Emily looked intently at the children playing in the street. There was a tickling in the back of her mind that told her something was off. "Why are you lying to me?"

Emily turned her powerful gaze to her, her mouth a thin line as she had some sort of internal debate. Glancing away, she sighed before giving Bonnie her full attention. Pulling her away from the door of the store and back towards the crowd, she spoke in hushed tones, "If you must know, Miss Katherine discovered I was heading to town and asked me to relay a message for her."

Bonnie's brow pulled together. "And that requires a trip to the druggist's?"

"Yes it does. You may wait out here if you wish."

"No, I'm coming with you."

Following closely behind her, they made their way through the door of the apothecary. The tinkling of bells alerted the owner to their presence.

"Emily. So good to see you. Is Miss Katherine with you?" Greeted the young woman standing behind the long implement laden counter.

Bonnie felt something weigh down on her mind as she stared at the girl. There was something extremely familiar about her. She was almost positive she had seen her before somewhere – perhaps in a picture?

"Good morning, Miss Annabelle."

Bonnie's spine snapped straight as the pieces fit together. This was the vampire that had held her prisoner along with Ben. This was Anna. Heart pounding painfully in her chest Bonnie could feel anger and wounded pride lapping at her insides calling for vindication.

Obviously aware of the sudden change of heart rate, Anna studied Bonnie curiously out of the corner of her eye as Emily continued to speak. "Miss Katherine is at the estate. I was hoping to speak with your mother, is she here?"

Turning her attention away from Bonnie she answered, "Mama has just stepped out. She is meeting with Mr. Gilbert."

"How unfortunate."

Bonnie struggled to stay calm, turning away to examine the assortment of herbs and strange bottled ornaments while she listened intently to their conversation.

"Surely not all is lost. Perchance I could be of some assistance?"

"Of course. Miss Katherine has a message for your mother."

"What is it?"

Bonnie looked over her shoulder just in time to catch Emily doing the same in her direction. Their eyes met for a second before Bonnie looked back towards the shelves. She wasn't surprised when Emily lowered her voice to an indecipherable whisper.

"Of course. I will tell my mother as soon as she returns."

"Thank you, Miss Annabelle. Bonnie?" Bonnie turned to find Emily watching her expectantly. "Shall we?"

Throwing one last glance in Anna's direction, she nodded her head and followed Emily back into the busy street. She waited until she believed they were far enough from the store before asking, "What was the message?"

Emily didn't even bother to look at her as she replied, "Nothing that concerns you."

"You don't think I should know?"

She stopped then causing Bonnie to almost walk into her. "No, Bonnie, I do not. I think it would be best that you keep separate from the affairs of this time and that they proceed without your interference."

Bonnie tried to swallow around the sudden lump in her throat as Emily peered at her with serious eyes. An irrational foghorn of _she knows, she knows_ blared in her head, but she pushed it roughly aside and offered up a thin smile.

"Yeah, you're probably right. So... I thought we came here to do some shopping. Let's get to it."

Emily's serious expression softened out with a smile as she hooked her arm with Bonnie's and lead her further down the street. They stopped occasionally to browse a stall or peer into a store window. There were certain stores that Emily warned Bonnie never to enter unless with someone from the main house or the strictest orders from Mr. Salvatore. When Bonnie had asked why, Emily had simply looked at her sadly and smiled, saying, "It is rather unlikely that you should have to concern yourself with such matters. My words were simply a precaution."

And that is all that she would say on the subject.

* * *

Bonnie startled at the sudden feel of Emily's hand wrapping itself around her wrist as she yanked her across the street towards a half-covered stall with enough force to momentarily unbalance her. Emily shot a look over her shoulder before picking up a random shawl and scrutinizing it. Bonnie could feel her brow furrow in confusion as she watched Emily study the shawl with a little too much interest.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She answered, perhaps a little too quickly. Peeking at her from the corner of her eye, she smiled lightly, "Everything is fine."

"Then why did you almost pull my arm out of its socket to drag me over here?"

"No reason." She replied easily, almost even convincingly, if it had not been for the fact that she was looking over her shoulder discretely at something across the street.

Bonnie attempted to follow her gaze, but couldn't see anything the least bit threatening. "What are we looking at?"

"No one." She said resolutely as she dragged her eyes back to the shawl.

"We're looking at a person?"

"No, we are not."

"Are they dangerous?" Bonnie asked, feeling something slide into the pit of her stomach at the thought.

Emily laughed and chanced another look back at the person before answering, "No."

Again Bonnie tried to follow her gaze and this time she was infinitely more successful. There, across the way, stood a tall, dark man. He was young, with strong features and a very pleasant smile dressed in rather plain attire but clearly not thread bare. There was good chance he was a freeman. Altogether, he was very handsome.

Realization spread through her as slowly as the Cheshire grin grew upon her face.

"Who is he?"

"Who is who?"

"The man you keep throwing glances at."

"No one of importance." Emily responded, beginning to fold and unfold the shawl distractedly.

"Are you sure?"

"Quite. Now would you please refrain from staring? It's impolite."

Bonnie just managed to squelch the urge to 'aww' at the slight blush painting Emily's cheeks. "Are you afraid my staring will draw his attention?"

"Of course not. As I said, it is impolite."

"You know," Bonnie began slowly, taking a step away from the stall, "I think I'd like to meet this guy of no importance."

"NO!" Emily shouted, her hand a vise around Bonnie's arm in an effort to keep her planted. People had turned to find the source of the sudden noise and Emily quickly looked over at the man who was now watching her with interest before turning back to the stall and whispering harshly, "No. I believe it would be best if that were not to occur... perhaps we should head back to the estate."

"Right, yeah, sure."

On their way back down the street Bonnie couldn't resist stealing one last glimpse of the mystery man. There was a good chance she had just seen her great-great grandfather.

* * *

It had been two weeks since Bonnie and Damon had made up the signal, and it had worked surprisingly well to that point. Bonnie had been curious to see whether or not Damon would remember the melody initially, so the first time they had passed each other in the hallway and she had heard him humming the tune to himself, a sly smile on his lips all the while, she had been surprised and taken over by residual embarrassment.

In the time past they had managed to meet each other five times which was quite the feat considering how infrequently they saw one another. The few times she happened upon him recently he was always in the company of someone else – most often Stefan and/or Katherine. But despite these minor setbacks Damon had found a way to hum the tune inconspicuously enough to draw no one's attention but hers.

Bonnie herself had yet to do any humming, not that Damon seemed to notice or mind, and regardless of the fact that she knew deep in her bones that it was a bad idea she always met up with him when he gave the signal.

* * *

The spring night air was refreshing after the heat of the day, and Bonnie relished the feeling of the slight breeze against her cheeks as she and Damon continued to walk the grounds aimlessly. She snuck a peek at him from the corner of her eye and had to bit her lip again to stop from laughing, "So why did you decide to wear that hat again?"

"I've told you: I recently purchased it and would like to get as much use out of it as possible."

"Aren't hats meant to protect you from the _sun_?"

"Yes..."

"You do realize it's the middle of the night, right? Hence no sun."

"Yes, Bonnie," He said, rolling his eyes, "I'm quite aware of the time of day. Hats are not simply for protection. They're rather fashionable as well."

Maybe if it hadn't been for the snooty tone he used Bonnie would have been able to bit her lip to keep from laughing again, but try as she might she couldn't suppress the fit of mirth from bubbling over.

He turned to her, irritation flickering in his clear eyes. "What is so amusing? Does my hat _offend _you?"

"No, it's great." She managed after a moment, "It's just... I've never seen you wear one before."

"Oh."

She watched the irritation dissipate as he pulled his shoulders back until his posture was impeccable and lifted his chin imperceptibly. "And?" he asked expectantly.

Bonnie squinted as she took in all his features in half-light the moon provided. She had to admit he was gorgeous no matter what he wore, that was a given, but the hat seemed wrong somehow... in a very cute, endearing way. It looked kind of awkward.

She hadn't realized she had been scrunching up her face until Damon spoke.

"That bad?"

"No! It's just – I think... I think I prefer you without it."

He took the hat off to study it despondently in his hands. "I quite like this hat."

"It _is_ a great hat."

"So long as I'm not wearing it." He added darkly.

"I never said that."

"You did not need to."

He continued to play with hat in his hands, seeming unsure what else to do with it and Bonnie sighed suddenly frustrated with herself. Why couldn't she have just lied and said she liked it?

"Damon, I'm sure it's fine. I'm just biased. I don't like hats."

"At all?" He asked, confusion pulling at his brow.

"At all."

"Why ever not?"

"Because they don't suit me. I can't wear them, so I suppose I've grown resentful of anyone who can."

"Like me?" He asked, the corner of his mouth sneaking up slightly.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes as she answered, "Yes, like you."

"I find that difficult to believe. I imagine you would be well suited for a hat." He offered, his gaze fixed to the object in question as he continued to twirl it idly.

Bonnie shook her head to herself, knowing exactly what he was beating at. She breathed out heavily before snatching the hat out of his hands and placing it upon her head. Holding the offending object down with one hand she asked, "Do I look _well_?"

His smile grew as he took in the picture she made. His eyes though, seemed to soften and a stillness entered his frame as if he were afraid to breath and ruin the image. Bonnie felt her hand slowly float its way back down to her side, unable to look away even as self-consciousness began to eat at the corners of her mind. Finally, after what felt an eternity he breathed, "Quite well."

Somehow managing to tear her gaze away from his she searched the open night air for something to ease the sudden tension. "Right, so... you won't mind if I keep it then?"

"My hat?" His eyebrows shot skyward momentarily before he narrowed his gaze at her, his smile never fading. "What of your aversion to all things chapeau?"

"This hat is special."

"Oh? How so?" He took a few slow steps forward, shortening the distance between them. Bonnie focused on the slight curl of his hair against his forehead.

"Well you know, it's a rare thing when I look _quite well_ in a hat so I'm not about to throw it away when I do."

"Well if that is the case, I may be inclined to part with it... for a price."

Her eyes found his and once more she was struck by how blue they were even as she noticed the spark of mischief flashing in their depths. "What price is this?"

"You."

Bonnie's heart stopped before kicking into double time as he stepped forward, eradicating the space between them. Frozen in place, her mind raced in incomprehension. _What? What is he saying? What?_

"You, Bonnie, have to declare before the very heavens that although you may look quite well in my hat, I look infinitely better."

Her breath left her in a rush as relief swept through every pore, making her laugh light-heartedly. She shook her head slightly at her own foolishness. _For a second there I thought... what a way to jump to conclusions, Bonnie._

Composing herself, she said, "I would, but I think lying is considered a sin."

His smile, if possible, got even wider. "Then I suppose you shall have to return my hat."

He raised his arm between them, his palm facing up as he waited for her to relinquish the item. She was struck be the familiarity of the moment to that of a time when she had barely known Damon except as the manipulative ex of one of her best friends.

She lifted the hat off her head, but made no move to give it to him. Instead she made a great show of looking at it thoughtfully, enjoying the feel of the course material against her fingers. Not that she'd ever admit this out loud, but Human Damon wasn't... _all _bad. He was actually _kind of_ fun to be around... when he wasn't being a nuisance, which of course was rare. It was a difficult thing to reconcile, that she might actually enjoy his company and so she revelled any opportunity she got to antagonize him in the slightest. It seemed to quiet her conscience to a whisper.

"Nah," she said, lifting her good shoulder with practised nonchalance, "I think I'll keep it."

"You know, _stealing_ is a sin as well."

"If we're comparing evils, I figure it weighs less than that massive lie you wanted me to tell."

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks."

"Or maybe the lady is protesting just enough."

"Bonnie..."

The way he said her name sent warning bells blaring in between her ears and an uncomfortable sensation up and down her spine. She eyed him with suspicion, taking in the tension in his frame. He looked like a tightly coiled spring waiting to snap and that impish gleam in his eyes seemed ten times brighter.

"Damon... Whatever you're thinking: don't."

But she had barely managed to get the words out before he made a mad-grab for the hat. Just twisting out of reach, she turned on her heel and dashed into the darkened field. She could feel the tall grass tickling her ankles as she ran past and hear the wind whistling in her ears, muffling the sounds of Damon's laughter and footsteps echoing behind her.

A time or two she was certain she felt the ghost of his fingertips against her back through the cotton of her dress. Each time, she would discover a reserve of energy and speed up out of his grasp, leaving an increasingly winded Damon in her wake. She hadn't run like this in _ages_. It felt good. So good in fact, that she almost didn't stop when Damon called out in defeat.

"I concede! My hat... is now... yours." He managed through laboured breaths. If it wasn't for the light of the moon reflecting off his white shirt she probably wouldn't have been able to make him out bent over the way he was, his hands resting on his knees for support before he just let himself flop onto the ground.

"It was as if you were flying... the way you moved. I've... I've never seen anything..." He spoke up and out into the night sky.

Bonnie enjoyed the lingering sensation in her muscles from the run for a moment longer before making her slow way over to Damon's languid form. _He looks exhausted_, she thought, not even bothering to fight her amusement at seeing him this way. Gently, she nudged his foot with her own until he was looking at her.

"You shouldn't lie down after running. It's not good."

"It feels good."

Rolling her eyes she placed _her_ hat back on her head before reaching out her hand towards him. "Get up."

He studied her hand for a long moment. The longer he took, the more she considered withdrawing her hand until finally he let out the most bone-tired sigh she had ever heard and placed his hand in hers, allowing her to help him to his feet.

Once standing his eyes drifted to her broken arm and he groaned. "And you have an injured arm. I was beaten by a _woman_ with an _injured arm_."

Bonnie shook her head in exasperation. _Of course he would think being beaten by a girl is a big deal. Typical._

She jumped suddenly when his face became level with hers, blue boring into green as he spoke in measured tones, "Speak of this to no one."

She glared at him, her lips pulling down into a frown. "Who would I even tell?"

"Are not you and Emily close?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. When all she did was mirror his expression he continued, "I have noticed you with her on more than one occasion."

_That's a little weird,_ she thought, _considering I rarely get to speak to Emily outside of her room._ But she chose not to comment. Instead she said, "Trust me. Emily is the last person I would tell."

Well actually _Katherine_ was the last person she would tell, but she couldn't very well say that. _Speaking of Katherine..._ She bit her lip as she contemplated the stupidity of her opening that particular can of worms. Taking a few tentative steps in no real direction, she waited for Damon to catch up before diving in.

"How long has Miss Katherine been here for?"

Taken aback by the sudden change in topic, Damon's face tugged in confusion, but he answered nonetheless. "About two months, if I recall correctly."

"And do you know how long she's staying for?"

His eyes narrowed at her, trying to understand. "As long as she wishes. Her parents and estate were lost in the fires in Atlanta. She has no one else. My father was gracious enough to take her in and I am certain he has no intention of letting her leave until proper arrangements have been made... Why the sudden interest in Miss Katherine?"

"Oh, no reason. I just find her very..." _Manipulative? Deceitful?_ Struggling to come up with any positive adjectives, Bonnie decided to let her sentence trail off. "What do you think of Miss Katherine?"

"Me?" His eyebrows rose to kiss his hairline and he let his eyes wander around the dark, empty field. "She is... She is a woman of many talents."

What is that supposed to mean? Her eyes drilled into the side of his head as he continued to avert his gaze. Try as she might she couldn't stop herself from asking, "What sort of talents?"

"For instance," he began slowly, seeming to test out each word before he said it, "she is surprisingly good at... football."

"Football?"

"Yes. It's this sport I learned –"

"I know what football is."

"You do?" He looked at her then, his eyes wide as he evaluated her.

Ignoring the little buzz of panic that shot through her at the fact that maybe she wasn't supposed to know what football was, she surprised herself more than him when she asked, "What else is she good at? I mean, you said talent_s_, so I'm assuming there's more than one."

Why could she not let this go?

"Yes. She also... She..."

There was a heavy pause before he concluded, "Perhaps _talent_ isn't the word I should have used. "

He looked around again briefly before continuing, "But, she is very... charming, and courageous, and knowledgeable and not at all meek, or modest. She doesn't cower from speaking of politics or current affairs. She exhibits wit, and elegance and grace, but doesn't doddle on vainly about lace and jewels like other women do. Indeed, sometimes I believe she is every inch what a lady should be."

She hadn't noticed they had stopped moving until then, when she couldn't bring herself to look at him any longer and instead fixed her eyes on her shoes. She had never heard anyone speak so passionately about another person before. It left her with a dark feeling in the centre of her chest, like a void.

"You seem really fond of her."

"I do hold her in very high regard."

The void in her chest expanded. It was wrong that Katherine could have such pull over Stefan and Damon. If there was a way Bonnie could open Damon's eyes to Katherine's games before he was actually in love with her, she had to do it. Closing her eyes against the void, she licked her lips before saying the words she knew she'd come to regret.

"Miss Katherine isn't all that she seems."

Even with her eyes closed she could sense Damon stiffening beside her. _Maybe I shouldn't do this?_

No. She had to try.

"And you would know this how?"

Opening her eyes, she brought them to chest level, noticing his shirt was unbuttoned – as always – in a way that she still thought should be inappropriate for the time period. Concentrating on that and not the way his eyes were boring into her she continued, "I know women like Katherine. They're beautiful and enthralling and they know it. They use it to get what they want and destroy whatever gets in their way."

"Miss Katherine is one of the most understanding –"

"Of course she is. That's what she does. She makes people believe she's this angel but really she's just playing with people –"

"Bonnie."

"The entire world is her plaything and she doesn't care who she hurts as long as she gets her way. The truth is –"

"_Bonnie_, stop."

"She doesn't care about anyone else. She certainly doesn't care about you no matter what she would have you believe, 'cause if she did she wouldn't be fooling around with your brother –"

"BONNIE!"

His voice ran through her words like steel, silencing her completely. She had never heard him use that tone before, not even as a vampire.

"I realize our encounters are often unorthodox and I have allowed you great liberties in my presence, but I will ask you to refrain from speaking of Miss Katherine in this way ever again."

He was completely still as he spoke, his posture the stiffest she had ever seen, his features drawn tight in disapproval. The words he used were polite, but the tone was anything but. It was sharp and chastising, as if he expected her to feel ashamed.

Bonnie's head fell against her chest, suddenly too heavy to hold up and the void grew larger. This was ridiculous. He was being ridiculous! And so was she. She was in the right, she just had to make him see it. Resolutely, she lifted her head and opened her mouth to try and talk some sense into him but he cut her off before she could.

"Remember who you are and to whom you are speaking to."

It was like a punch to the gut and suddenly the void was all consuming, enveloping her completely and leaving her feeling oddly hollow. She had never been spoken to in such a way and it took all her restraint to not retaliate – not to hit him back harder. Something on her face must have given way to the attack that she was feeling because the ice melted from Damon's eyes and clouded into regret. He bowed his head then, no longer able to make eye contact. His voice was quiet when he spoke.

"Bonnie, I... Goodnight, Bonnie."

Watching him turn and walk away, his shoulders slumped forward, Bonnie swore in frustration. She figured the conversation would end badly, but nothing like this had crossed her mind. Uncertain of whether she even wanted him to respond she called after him. "Damon!"

When he continued to walk without acknowledging her she swore she saw a spark somewhere to her left. But when she looked there was nothing but darkness. "Fuck!" She yelled certain he was too far away to hear her anymore.

A tall oak loomed in the darkness a few feet in front of her and she dragged herself to it, resting her head against the rough bark for support. She had never felt so in conflict with herself before. Her emotions were tumultuous and volatile. She was frustrated, insulted, confused and beyond everything else, absolutely livid! She wanted to scream from the very core of her essence. So she did.

It ripped from her centre and filled the darkening night sky as the moon was lost behind a thick curtain of black clouds. She pounded her fist against the bark of the tree, not caring if she wound up with blisters tomorrow. She ignored the soreness as her fist continued to meet the unrelenting tree as she imagined Damon's face.

"You stupid – asshat! You – bastard! What a – fucking – fuck face!" She screamed again, and somewhere overhead thunder joined into her cry.

How dare he talk to her like that! How dare he treat her like she was inferior! Like she had no rights! How dare he make her feel like she should be ashamed!

Her fist slowed against the trunk until it came to a stop and she leaned once more against it, her good arm winding its way as far around the wide oak as it could as if seeking comfort from an embrace.

_God, what a mess._ She was angry at Damon for being such a giant douche bag... but she was kind of aggravated with herself for bringing the taboo subject up to begin with. What did she expect to happen? For them to sit down and talk about it like adults? They didn't know each other that well and Katherine was a sensitive subject no matter the era. For fuck sake, he would spend the next 145 years pining over her. Did she really think she'd be able to be like, 'Hey, maybe you shouldn't do that. She isn't really worth it.'

And as much as it sickened her to acknowledge it, if she were going to look at things realistically he had been rather respectful in his reprimanding her.

A shudder rocked its way down her body as the first few drops started to fall from the sky. She turned away from the tree, letting her back come into contact with the trunk. What an awful place, that she could consider his treatment of her even remotely kind... "I just want to go home." She whispered as the rain took on a steady pace and lightning danced in her periphery.

But the worst part of it all was that Katherine had won. Katherine had won without even trying.


	8. Claret

**Hey guys! So lots to say, but I'll try to keep it brief. Most importantly, as always, THANK YOU! For all the reviews, favourites, etc. I appriciate it all!**

**Clearly my plan to update, at the very least, every other Sunday has fallen to pieces. I'm just finding it very difficult to find time to write. But I want you guys to know that I am determined to finish this story! I refuse to abandon it! Especially since there's so little for us Bamon fans out there (on the show in particular - though, did you guys see? WE'RE GETTING BAMON INTERACTIONS IN THE NEXT EPISODE! SO EXCITED!)**

**Also, before I forget: a lot of people have been asking to see what's going on in the future with Damon and his new memories, and I've tried explaining why you will not be seeing that anytime soon without giving too much of the plot away... unfortunately I think I've only managed to confuse people. So just know, that everything is happening the way it is for a reason, and that you will get a look into Damon's head eventually, but not for a long while and probably not in the way you'll be expecting. There - hopefully that was clear and yet vague at the same time. lol.**

**So for this chapter there's a new character introduced (very minor) but she speaks with a dialect, so it may be difficult to read what she's saying. Just sound it out, in your best Jamaican accent. You'll know it when you see it.**

**Final Note - You guys have no idea how much I resent Bonnie's broken arm. I'm always forgetting she only has one good arm and having to rewrite things. It's so frustrating! I just want her arm to be healed already! But it does help me keep track of how time is passing in the story. So far she's been there 6 weeks... only 6 more to go until I think her arm could realistically heal without a cast. lol. Sometimes I take this realism thing a little too seriously...**

**

* * *

**

Two weeks. Two weeks passed in terse silence: two weeks of them going about their business as if the other person didn't exist. Every time Bonnie was in Damon's presence, she could feel something in the air change. It became charged with electricity. Angry red sparks seemed to dance around the space between them until it become too much for them to handle and one of them had to leave.

Despite the silence Damon continuously shot glances her way. Though Bonnie herself had managed to avoid all eye contact. The only reason she knew this was because she could physically _feel _when Damon's eyes were on her.

Readjusting the strap of her sling Bonnie huffed in frustration. The tension was starting to get to her, but she _needed _to finish the room. There was to be a dinner tonight. Apparently the Lockwoods and the Fells were coming over and it was a big deal, because the whole house was in a tizzy with preparations. Bonnie was half way through the parlour room when Damon and Stefan had entered and ruined her shway.

The brothers had spoken idly about nothing important for what felt like a very long time, all of which Bonnie spent wishing she was somewhere else. More than once, Bonnie caught herself levitating objects she was meant to be dusting because she was concentrating on them so hard. But anything was better than how painfully aware she had become of _his_ presence. She had never felt so uncomfortable in her life.

Finally Stefan said something worth hearing. "The guests should be arriving shortly. I should make myself presentable."

"Presentable? Why brother, there is no time enough in the world for that."

Bonnie listened to Stefan's laughter as he made his way to the door before stopping. "Are you not coming?"

"Yes, of course. I will be up in a moment."

"Well hurry. You'll need even more time than I will to look remotely decent." He teased before disappearing into the hallway.

Taking a deep calming breath, Bonnie continued to dust stiffly as she waited for the shoe to drop. She could literally feel the muscles in her back knotting the longer the silence dragged on. She couldn't decide what was more frustrating: being in the same room as him or him acting like they _weren't_ in the same room.

"Bonnie." His voice was... timid. That was the only word she could think to describe it. It was a whisper really – so quiet she wasn't entirely convinced she hadn't imagined it until he continued, "May I... may I have a moment of your time?"

For the millionth time that week she felt his eyes fall heavy on her frame. His gaze seemed to weigh down her arm until she was unable to lift it, only just managing to place it atop the decanter she had been attempting to clean as she noticed it rise slowly from the shelf. But she refused to give him any sign she had heard him and so she leaned forward against the shelf and bowed her head in hopes of giving the impression she was hard at work.

"Bonnie... All I ask of you is to listen –"

Something inside her snapped at this and she spun towards him, pointing her duster at him threateningly even though he was situated across the room.

"Like you did for me?"

He was silent for a moment, his eyes downcast. She wanted so desperately to cross her arms, but the stupid sling wouldn't allow for it, so she brought her arm down to hang by her side.

"You're right, of course." He spoke finally, before lifting his eyes back to hers. "Bonnie, I -"

"Don't bother. There's nothing you can say to me to make what you said acceptable. Goodbye, Mr. Salvatore."

She did a good job of ignoring the way his eyes widened at the way she addressed him and the way he called quietly after her as she left the room. It was all she could do to reign in the anger she felt bubbling away under her skin and stop herself from setting the whole house on fire.

* * *

Bonnie walked slowly down the corridor as she heard the voices of the guests beginning to arrive. Emily was with them – taking coats and putting them away in a safe place. She had told Bonnie that they would both be helping serve the dinner tonight in the dining hall. But dinner wouldn't be served until 7 and it was only 5:30. Bonnie really didn't know what to do with herself until then so she continued to walk up and down the corridor aimlessly. Emily said she'd come and get her when she was needed...

She had thought about venturing to the kitchens but that was uncharted territory, and she wasn't in the mood for getting lost.

"You there!"

Bonnie jumped a mile out of her skin before spinning towards the voice. Standing at the end of the hallway was a grey looking man in a grey apron... or what must have been white at one point, but had received too many stains and had too many scrubbings to ever be white again. He glared darkly at her, and Bonnie felt something slide into the pit of her stomach.

"Me?" She asked though she felt she already knew the answer.

His glare got sharper, and he bared his teeth at her. "Get down to the kitchen. We need hands."

She looked down at her broken arm, resisting the urge to make a smartass remark, and when she looked back she knew she'd made the right decision to keep quiet. He seemed to be missing one of his canines, she noticed as he snarled, "Now!"

She hesitated a moment, before revealing, "I don't know where the kitchens are."

He seemed to inflate right before her eyes, his chapped lips pressing together in frustration. Then he let out a breath, turning on his heel and throwing over his shoulder, "Follow me."

She followed behind him reluctantly. Not like she had much of a choice anyways. _Not like I can say, "No thanks. I think I'll stay right here."_

On their short journey to the kitchens he managed to pull aside two more sets of hands. Once they reached their destination, Bonnie felt herself crossing over a literal threshold as the heat slammed into her like a wall. It was like she had entered an entirely different world. People were buzzing about – everyone doing something. It was incredibly loud, from the pots and pans and even the heat seemed to carry a noise with it.

"You!" The grey man pointed at her. "Get over there and start chopping." He pointed briefly towards a woman standing beside a large pot before turning to yell at someone else.

She moved over to the young woman and studied the assortment of knives lying along the counter. Reaching forward, she picked the knife that looked to be in the best condition before glancing over at the woman beside her. She was focused on the potatoes she was peeling, but she did seem aware of Bonnie's presence as she paused momentarily in her actions to place the already peeled potatoes within her reach. Bonnie put the knife down long enough to position a potato in front of her. Placing the edge of the knife against the vegetable, she pressed down, but the blade rolled off to the side sending the potato sliding across the counter.

She huffed in frustration, putting her knife down to reposition it. Just when she was ready it give it another go a voice stopped her.

"Whatcha gonna do wit dat?"

Bonnie turned her attention to the right to see the woman watching her curiously.

"Cut." She answered simply. _I thought that was obvious._

"Cut yaself, more like. Ya need ta be usin' two 'ands."

"I can't." She said, turning more towards her to show off her arm.

"_Cheese and peas_. What Thomas tinking?" She looked down at her small stack of potatoes still needing to be peeled before wiping her hands on her skirt and moving towards the pot. She lifted the large spoon from the counter and began stirring gently, then spoke, " 'ere. Come. Stir."

Bonnie walked over and took the spoon from her, continuing to stir the soup. She was beginning to feel completely incompetent. She couldn't even cut a fucking potato. How sad was that?

She watched as the woman peeled the few remaining potatoes, her wrist working expertly around the small brown vegetables at lightning speed. Once done she moved the peels to the side and placed a potato in front of her. She rolled up her sleeves, and as she did so Bonnie caught sight of something strange. There was a dark mark on her left forearm in the shape of a star. At first Bonnie thought it was a tattoo, though she didn't think those existed back then. But as she continued to stare at it she realized it wasn't flat... it was engraved... engraved into her skin, the skin around it puckered up like an old scar.

"What happened to you?" She asked before she could stop herself.

The woman stopped her steady rhythm of chopping to glance at her and followed Bonnie's gaze back to her arm. "Dis?" She asked looking back at her curiously, as if Bonnie should already know. "My ol' Massa... so me don't get lost."

Bonnie could feel her eyebrows knit together in confusion. She didn't quite understand what she meant by that, but the one thing she did understand was that this was done to her by someone else. The thought made her skin crawl and she had to swallow hard against the threat of bile rising in her throat. Pulling her eyes away from the scar, she looked vacantly into the pot before asking, "Does it hurt?"

"No." the woman spoke gently, "Too ol' to 'urt."

Bonnie glanced at her, and though the woman never stopped looking at her like some strange science experiment, she smiled warmly before turning back to her work. There was something very familiar about that smile. She thought about it briefly before realizing she was supposed to be stirring the soup.

_I have one job; might as well do it._

_

* * *

_

Bonnie stood awkwardly off to the side as the guests continued on to the third course of the night: the desert course. So far the conversations had been dull and inconsequential, though Bonnie hadn't imagined that they would really be otherwise... it was more like a vague hope. There was so little to entertain oneself with here that she found herself searching for amusement in the smallest of things.

She lifted her arm slightly in an attempt to ease the strain from holding the jug of Claret she was meant to be pouring upon request. That was her job. Other people would come into the dining room and quickly clear away the plates before a different set of people entered to serve the food. Then they would all vanish into the kitchens, not to be seen again until they were needed to repeat the process. Only she and Emily remained in the dining room, situated on either side. They only moved when someone raised an empty glass awaiting replenishment.

Her jug was still quite full, its weight pulling at tired muscles that were beginning to scream in protest. She eyed Emily's almost empty jug with envy. Emily was lucky. She had all men on her side of the room, and there was a steady rhythm of drinks flowing. On Bonnie's side it was an entirely different story. Three of the five people she was responsible for were women, and it wasn't exactly seemly for a woman to drink too much, so no luck there... and the two men were Stefan and Mr. Lockwood. Stefan... well, he wasn't a big drinker. Mr. Lockwood was the only one really easing her load.

Suddenly, she felt a weight settle on her, making her tense, and she became focused on trying to meet Emily's eye while simultaneously avoiding Damon's. He had been trying to subtly gain her attention all night with no success. That's not to say she hadn't unintentionally caught his gaze a time or two throughout the meal, but she was always quick to look away.

_Look at me, Emily. Look at me,_ she projected at her, staring fixedly at the side of her head. Then, as if she had willed it mentally, Emily shifted her gaze and their eyes met. She lifted her eyebrow at Bonnie's intense stare, tilting her head slightly to the left in enquiry. Feeling suddenly very foolish, Bonnie gave a tight smile in response. It did the trick though. Damon's attention drifted back to his drink, which he quickly downed.

Emily, though clearly still confused, gave her a small smile in return before turning her attention to Damon's raised glass. Bonnie glanced around her side of the table in hopes of an empty glass. Finding none, she reconciled herself to having to tune back into the conversation in order to pass the time.

"In the end, William managed to get the rope around her and lead her out of the river. Just in time too. She was nearly swept away, the current was so strong." Honeria Fell concluded. It was still a little hard to process that she was standing in the same room as Honeria Fell. Bonnie had only ever heard about when she was a child. It was kind of what she imagined seeing a small time celebrity would be like: surreal.

"You should have seen it. She looked closer to a drowned rat than a dog by the time I got to her." William, Honeria's son, chimed in. The table broke into refined laughter, everyone seemingly amused by the story. Everyone that is, except Damon who, Bonnie couldn't help but note from the periphery of her vision, looked bored out of his mind as he played idly with the food on his plate.

"The makings of a true hero, I'd say." Offered Jonathan Gilbert. "It takes a great man to realize the value of even the most meagre of lives. I hope that knowledge serves you well out on the field."

William bowed his head in bashful acceptance of the compliment, while Giuseppe Salvatore's eyebrows shot up in curiosity. "What's this?" He asked.

"Didn't I tell you?" Samuel Fell started, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. "My boy's joining the cause."

There were sounds of approval from around the table.

"Good for you, son." Giuseppe commended.

"It's nothing." William countered, raising a hand as if to stem the praise. "I simply felt it was my duty as a Southerner to protect what's rightfully ours."

For a moment Bonnie wasn't sure she had heard correctly. But no... He had said...

A ringing filled her ears until it felt like her entire head was vibrating. She became aware of the flames on all the candles throughout the room beginning to grow as her power rose. Emily became aware of it too, because she shot her a dark, warming look. Bonnie got the message loud and clear. Closing her eyes tight against the ringing, she willed the energy in the room to drop.

With her eyes closed she listened as Damon muttered something darkly to himself, not loud enough to be understood.

"What was that?" Giuseppe questioned.

"I said," Damon spoke up clearly, for everyone to hear, "they're people not property."

Her eyes flew open and she was looking right him, though for once he wasn't looking at her. He was looking straight ahead at his brother, who she was certain, even without looking, was cautioning him silently not to go down this road with guests around.

"People can be property." Came a voice somewhere to Bonnie's left. She looked over to see Mr. Lockwood eyeing Damon in incomprehension.

"Oh? And if I made you my property: that would be entirely lawful?" Damon countered, his mouth thinning in annoyance.

"Of course not. But that would be a wholly different situation."

"Why so?"

"Damon." Giuseppe interrupted, his voice low and reproachful.

"No, father. I'd like to know."

"That's enough."

"Surely he can answer it. It's a simple question. _Why_ are we so different? What makes us so privileged?"

"Damon –"

"Let us put things in perspective, shall we? We started the revolution over taxes, was it not?"

"There were other factors –" Stefan began in an attempt to mediate, but Damon cut him off.

"It was a main factor. We felt our rights as citizens and free peoples were being undermined –"

Giuseppe gripped his fork so tightly his knuckles had turned white. "Da –"

"These people are fighting for their very freedom. I say give it to them."

"ENOUGH!"

A deadly hush fell over the table, as they waited awkwardly for Giuseppe to compose himself. His face red from restrained anger, he managed to bring his voice down to a level, yet harsh tone. "That is enough. William is doing his family a great honour by fighting for his beliefs and you would do well to look to him. He is your better, and you will show him the respect he deserves regardless of your 'opinions.' In truth, you will find that your opinions are of no consequence here, Damon. Perhaps you will remember that the next time you feel the need to share."

The tension in the room was palpable. No one dared to move, let alone speak. As the people around the table struggled to decide how best to break the tension, Bonnie watched the light extinguish itself from Damon's eyes until his expression was completely blank. She had seen that look a few times on 2010 Damon's face... apparently he had perfected it while he was still human.

Damon tossed back the rest of his Claret before holding up his glass for Emily to refill again.

Bonnie bit down on her lip, not entirely sure how she felt. Yes, she felt bad for him, but... she was still pissed at him too. _And I'm pretty sure I hate his Dad,_ which was an awful thing to think, but true. She officially despised Giuseppe Salvatore. He had managed to tear down his son so effortlessly, and though she was certain Damon would never admit it, he was hurt. Really hurt. It surprised her how difficult it was to see him looking so shut down.

He took another large swig of his drink and placed the empty glass on the table fiddling with it. Then his eyes lifted and found hers, and this time she didn't look away.

"Why, you have Chai tea here, yes?" A fearless Katherine broke the silence suddenly, before addressing Mrs. Fell and Mrs. Lockwood. "Have you ladies ever had it before? It's one of the very few things that I find I enjoy from India. Speaking of which, I do believe it's time for tea."

The room seemed to exhale at that, and the tension eased to be replaced by easy conversation, all the while Damon and Bonnie remained focused on each other. Neither offered the other much of anything through their expression, but just the eye contact created a sense of... something. Something fragile that Bonnie didn't want to break.

Lucky for her, Emily had taken it upon herself to inform the kitchens that the guests were ready for tea and brandy, and so missed the exchange. Stefan, on the other hand... saw everything.

* * *

_Wow. I'm exhausted._

The muscles all throughout her legs were really beginning to kill. She could feel them working overtime as she made her slow way to her room. Today had been long – the longest so far, since she'd got here. And that was saying something, since time had a funny way of dragging when she wasn't being bothered by certain individuals.

A sigh burrowed its way past her lips from somewhere deep inside her. She squinted in the dark of the hallway, the only light being provided by the moon sneaking through each window she passed. She was almost at her room, and when she got there she planned to just pass out. She smiled warmly at the idea, listening to her footsteps as they brought her closer to her destination.

_Wait._ She thought, coming to an abrupt stop and listening harder. _What was that?_

Before she could make it out, the noise stopped.

Brushing it off, she started forward again and again she heard it: a pad, pad, pad... like footsteps. _That makes sense. Someone else turning in for the night._

Regardless of the logic, Bonnie found herself slowing to a stop. The noise stopped too. _Okay... Those aren't my footsteps, are they? Echoing funny off the walls... Or someone could be following me..._ Panic shot through her veins sending her heart racing.

_No, Bonnie. Don't become paranoid._.. _But... just in case..._ She turned slowly to look behind her.

Empty. The hallway looked completely empty. Though it was a little difficult to discern with the way the darkness warred with the moonlight, baring sinister shadows.

_See, nothing to worry about,_ she thought, even as her palms fisted and her breath quickened. Turning stiffly forward she walked a little faster and for a moment she heard only one set of footsteps: her own. Her shoulders sagged in relief and she almost laughed at her own nervousness, when she heard it again. It was slow at first then built in speed.

Sprinting forward, she closed the small distance to her door in a matter of seconds, just managing to open it when a hand wrapped around her arm and yanked her inside, closing the door behind them. Bonnie opened her mouth to scream but another hand, warm and smooth, was placed against her lips muffling the sound.

Her heart was racing loudly in her chest. So loudly, she almost didn't hear the whispered, "It's only I. It's only I."

_Damon!_ Her mind screamed at her, and finally her eyes saw past her own panic. The room was nearly pitch black, but if she strained she could make out the outline of his features and even a little of the blue in his eyes.

Slapping his hand away from her mouth, she had to restrain herself from giving him an aneurism – vaguely aware of the fact that he wasn't a vampire and it would literally kill him. Instead she settled for glaring menacingly at him. "What the hell are you thinking? You shouldn't be here."

He leaned forward into her personal space, his eyes boring into hers. "I know. I know, but you would not listen. I need you to listen." His breath fanned gently across her face and she caught a hint of liquor in the air between them.

"Are you drunk?" She asked, eying him suspiciously.

"A little liquid courage never hurt anyone." He admitted. She tried to get a better look at him through the dark, but she couldn't. She could see he had one hand on the door frame; he may have been using it to help keep himself upright. Suddenly, he brought his head down to rest against hers, his eyes falling shut. "I am a man of action; words... they often fail me, but... I _need_ for you to listen."

She lifted her head away from his and he opened his eyes to watch her. She didn't put any distance between them, just moved her head back in order to look him straight in the eye.

Taking her silence as consent, he leaned more fully upon the door frame for support before beginning, "I know I deserve every _ounce_ of disdain you may feel for me at present. You cannot fathom how I have regretted – how ashamed I am. What I said was unforgivable, and I am aware of that, but please – "

He shifted, leaning past the frame towards her, his eyes searching hers again. "I... I think you to be the most insightful, remarkable woman – no, _person_ – I have ever had the privilege of meeting. I think highly of your opinion. Truly, I do."

She shook her head, looking off at something non-existent over his shoulder. She felt oddly flushed, like the room was ten times hotter than it should be, but she did her best to ignore the unexpected heat. "It doesn't matter. My good opinion once lost is lost forever." They may have been Jane Austen's words, but they had never rang more true for Bonnie than in this moment.

He sagged onto the frame, closing his eyes as he nodded slightly in acceptance. "I understand." His voice was barely a whisper. He straightened a little, making to turn away, but stopped himself.

"Bonnie, I... Miss Katherine is... I may call on my duty as a gentleman to defend her honour, but that is not what motivated me to speak to you in such a manner. I... I am not so blind as to be unaware of how her... affections are torn between... my brother and I. But she is truly a respectable lady, and she has barely just arrived. I believe that given the time she may grow to..." He trailed off, not sure how to voice what he was thinking.

_Oh, Damon._ She closed her eyes from the pity swelling up inside her. Even with her eyes closed she could feel him move to stand directly in front of her, but she didn't meet his gaze until she felt his warn hand against the skin of her cheek.

"I realize now that you spoke out of friendship to me... that you were doing me a great kindness. I value our friendship, you must believe that. And if you could find it in your heart to forgive me, I would wish to remain friends."

She felt a sudden need to make some kind of physical contact, so she rested her hand on top of his and tried not to analyze it too much. "It's not that easy. I can't just forget what you said to me, Damon." She watched as the light in his eyes dimmed to nothing for the second time that evening and something inside her broke a little. "I'll... I'll think about it."

A spark flashed in back into his eyes and he removed his had from her cheek in order to grasp her hand. He brought it to his lips, placing a chaste kiss at the centre of her palm; unaware of the how it made her blood sing. "That's all I ask."


	9. Shadow Play

**Hi y'all! I realize I forgot to disclaim the last two things I posted so... DISCLAIMING NOW!**

**Just want to let you all know that for some reason I can no longer reply to reviews unless I private message you. So if you do take the time to leave a review (which I very much hope you do) just know that I'm super appriciative. Each review reminds me why I'm writing this story. You're reviews mean the world to me, so please _do_ keep them coming!**

**The end of this chapter feels a little abrupt - just to warn you. I couldn't think of anything that fit properly after the last line and I just wanted to _post it_ since it's been AGES since the last update. Hopefully it's not too painful. **

**Food for Thought: Katherine is extremely self-centered. As long as things are going her way she's happy. Right now her way includes having the undivided attention of the ****Salvatore brothers (more specifically Stefan). What with both brothers now interested in Bonnie (for different reasons), I'm not sure how much longer she'll be able to fly under Katherine's radar...**

* * *

The early afternoon sun streamed into the windows of the library, warming the room and inspiring a welcoming atmosphere. Bonnie took her time as she worked her way around the expansive room, enjoying the peace. She secretly marvelled at the collection of bound volumes as her duster traced their spines.

The sound of someone entering the room made her glance over her shoulder discretely. Noticing Stefan hovering near the door, she frowned. He looked unsure of himself with his eyes downcast and focused on something internal. Suddenly his eyes lifted and met hers dead on. Heart leaping out of her chest, Bonnie spun back to her work.

"Girl?"

She stiffened and groaned silently to herself. The last thing she needed was to start interacting with Stefan too.

_I'm jumping to conclusions. Maybe he just has a task for me to do,_ she thought rationally. Taking a deep breath she turned to face him, putting on what she hoped was the impression of a good servant.

"Yes, Mr. Salvatore."

"Have you seen my brother at all?"

There was something about the way he was studying her that was making her feel uncomfortable, like he was trying to crack some sort of puzzle. She struggled not to fidget under his gaze and answered truthfully, "No I haven't, Sir."

"He hasn't been by this way?"

"No, Sir."

His lips pulled down and he seemed to study her even harder. No longer able to meet his gaze head on, she opted for the wall above his shoulder.

"How is your arm?"

"Half way to healed, I think."

"That is good to hear." He paused a moment before continuing, "You are new here, yes?"

Brow furrowing in confusion, she brought her eyes to his face again and really looked at him, but his expression gave nothing away. He merely looked politely curious, though his eyes were still studying her intently, making her feel off-kilter, like she was missing something.

"Yes."

"And how are you finding it?"

"I... I like it more than I thought I would."

He nodded slowly as if in understanding. "And where are you from originally?"

_What is with the sudden interest in me?_

Her eyes found the wall over his shoulder again as she lied, "Canada."

She noticed his eyebrows shoot up in her periphery. "And you chose to come here because...?"

She sighed, raking her brain for a plausible explanation. Why would she leave Canada? Why... why had she cast the spell? "I wasn't happy there."

The truth of it settled heavily on her chest and she felt suddenly fatigued. She didn't want to answer any more questions. What she wanted was to know what Stefan was up to. Squaring her shoulders, she cut him off just as he opened his mouth to ask another question.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude or anything, but why are you interrogating me?"

His jaw slackened, making him look a bit like a fish out of water. He hadn't been prepared for her to question him in return.

"No," he finally managed, a small smile slipping across his face, "this is not an interrogation at all. Forgive me. I was merely curious. You had made such an interesting entrance into our household; I simply wanted to learn more about you."

"I've been here for over a month. Why now?" She questioned, getting the sneaking suspicion he wasn't being honest.

His jaw loosened yet again as he was caught off guard. A collision of emotions played on his face, as he tried to decide how he was supposed to feel. A sense of déjà vu overcame her as she remembered her first meeting with Damon. The brothers were far more similar than they first appeared.

Settling on a mixture of amused bashfulness that only he could wear, he chuckled briefly as he bowed his head. "It would seem I have been caught out. In truth, I have an ulterior motive for this interview."

"And that is?"

He looked over his shoulder and into the hallway before turning his attention back to her. Hesitating briefly, he brought himself further into the room, closer to her, before he answered, "Recently I have become aware of... my brother's interest in you."

Her eyes widened to saucers as she shook her head in disbelief. She wasn't even fully aware she was doing it, too distracted by the screaming repetition of _Deny! Deny! Deny!_ in her head. "I – I don't –"

"Please," he interrupted, raising a hand to quiet her stuttering rebuttal, "I have seen the way he looks at you and I know my brother better than anyone."

_How he looks at me? Oh God! Does he think...?_ Her cheeks warmed at the thought. Shaking her head even harder she protested, "It's not what you think! We're friends. We – we don't do anything illicit. We just talk, that's all."

He didn't look entirely convinced, but he nodded nonetheless. "Of course. I did not believe that my brother would do anything untoward with you –"

"No, never." She interjected, surprising herself by how quick she was to defend him.

Stefan paused fleetingly to consider her before smiling softly. "No, he would not... But my brother can be very reckless and what he's doing – what you're _both_ doing is extremely dangerous, especially for you."

"Trust me, I'm aware."

"Damon often does things that land him in a sea of trouble. It is no big matter... but I could not stand by while he placed someone else's life in danger." His brow furrowed with concern.

There was something comforting about how constant Stefan was. He definitely had a hero complex. With others she might have found it annoying, but with Stefan it was endearing, and it made her miss Elena all the more. They really were perfect for each other - completely selfless.

"Why did you come to _me_ with this? Why not Damon?"

He bowed his head again, embarrassed. "I... I wanted to be certain you were worth the risk he is chancing."

"Oh," was all she managed as she felt the blush crawl back across her cheeks. "We're just friends."

Why she felt the sudden urge to re-establish that point was beyond her. He lifted his head and smiled, nodding. "So you have said."

Finding the ground unexpectedly enthralling she focused on that rather than the embarrassment thrumming its way through her. Stefan, not noticing or, as was more likely, too polite to draw attention to her discomfort, continued on thoughtfully. "I suppose I will have to speak with Damon regardless. My brother has many talents, but alas, subtlety is not one of them."

A small chuckle escaped from her unhindered. She couldn't argue with that. Laughter sounded faintly somewhere down the hall and Bonnie took that as her cue to turn back to her work.

"Forgive me. I never asked your name."

Feeling like it would be impolite to talk to him facing away, she sighed deeply, swinging around to answer. "Bonnie."

She paused a moment, waiting to see if he had anything else to say and in that moment Damon's voice glided into the room, immediately followed by his person... and Katherine's.

"Stefan, there you are! Miss Katherine was beginning to –" He broke off, coming to a halt in the middle of the room with Katherine on his arm. His eyes darted back and forth between Bonnie and Stefan, his eyebrows pulling together in confusion. He wasn't the only one scrutinizing them. Katherine was also eyeing them with interest, one corner of her mouth turned down in displeasure.

It was then that Bonnie realized how close Stefan was standing to her. Nothing indecent by any means, or remotely as close as when Damon crowded her space, but surely closer than any servant and employer would in 1864. She couldn't help but notice that Stefan himself looked a little like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Having regained his composure Damon concluded, "Miss Katherine was beginning to believe you had deserted us." A tight smile graced his features, nowhere close to reaching his eyes.

"Yes. You haven't been avoiding me, have you?" Katherine teased, offering up her own empty smile.

"No, not at all." Stefan began, stepping away from Bonnie and closer to Katherine. "In fact I was just inquiring after your whereabouts from Bonnie here."

"Were you?" Damon asked Stefan, his tone light and jovial. But his eyes were sharp and focused solely on Bonnie, as if he could pry the truth out of her with just a glance.

Averting her gaze, she watched as Katherine's attention shifted from Stefan to Damon and then slowly, to her. Her eyes narrowed as the gears churned in her cunning little mind – whatever Katherine was thinking she didn't look happy about it.

_This isn't good. This is NOT good._ Bonnie thought darkly to herself as her palms began to sweat.

"Well, how about a game of football before it starts to rain? Or perhaps a walk around the gardens?" Stefan suggested.

"Football?" Damon repeating slowly, his eyes shooting to Stefan before narrowing in suspicion on Bonnie.

Her own eyes narrowed in return. Why was he looking at her like that?

"_**Football?"**_

"_**Yes. It's this sport I learned –"**_

"_**I know what football is."**_

The memory hit her so quickly, her mouth dropped open in a silent, "oh." She fought the urge to roll her eyes at the clear assumption Damon was jumping to. He could be so ridiculous sometimes.

"Very well. Football sounds adequate." Damon finally answered before turning to Katherine. "What do you reckon, Miss Katherine? Do you fancy a game of football?"

"Certainly. If you boys believe you can keep up..." She answered, throwing a cheeky smile over her shoulder as she disentangled herself from Damon and exited the room, obviously pleased to have the brothers' attention again.

Following closely on her heels, Damon left without sparing Bonnie a second glance. Stefan, on the other hand, lingered slightly, just long enough to offer a small apologetic smile before departing.

Feeling suddenly exhausted, Bonnie allowed herself to sink against the shelf, the ledge making a perfect headrest. Something, deep in her bones, told her change was coming.

* * *

Bonnie sat back against Emily's headboard with more force than she intended. The edge of the hard wood dug into her back, but she hardly noticed as she tried to digest the information she had just received. "So all the work you've done so far...?"

"Is unusable." Emily finished, a frown marring her beautiful features.

"Completely?"

She nodded her head gravely. "It would seem what little advancement I have made has been for nought."

Sitting up a little straighter, Bonnie shook her head. She refused to believe Emily had spent a month working on a spell and had _nothing_ to show for it. "What about the grain of sand thing? You know, in an ocean... or an hour glass?"

"No. The ocean was too vast, the possibilities too endless and even within such a contained structure as an hour glass, one has no control over the grain's destination. If I proceeded to study time in that fashion I would only be able to send someone forward or backward in time with no inclination of their destination."

"Well it's not like I landed anywhere near _my_ destination, so maybe that's what you did?"

Emily looked at her then, her eyes sharp and reprimanding. "Do you truly wish for me to take that risk?"

Feeling herself deflate, Bonnie tried not to sound too bitter when she replied, "No."

There was a fear prodding at her insides, grabbing hold of her heart and squeezing it painfully – what if she could never go back? It was irrational, she knew. The only reason she was in this situation in the first place was because Emily had successfully created the spell. She just had to be patient... But every once in a while the fear would rear its ugly head and grin at her with its sharp, pointed teeth and she'd panic.

A silence stretched its way throughout the room. Emily had turned to look out the window, though Bonnie suspected she wasn't really seeing anything, her mind too focused on the spell.

Emily's fingers found her desk and she began absently tapping on its surface. Bonnie listened quietly to the nonsensical pattern for a long while, her eyes wandering up to trace the faint cracks in the ceiling in the steadily darkening light of the room. It was definitely going to rain. The sun had already clouded over.

"I suppose," Emily gently broke the silence, "I will have to begin anew. I must alter how I perceive time if I am to get anywhere."

Biting her lip, Bonnie's stomach sunk at the prospect of the long process ahead of them. There had to be something she could do...

"I want to help you."

Turning, Emily eyed her with mild curiosity.

"You have told me all you can remember of the spell." She responded, as if that were all Bonnie could offer.

Moving to sit at the edge of the bed, Bonnie continued, "Yes, but there has to be some way I can be more useful. I'm not just going to sit around while you continue to do all the work."

"You have been working on those spells I taught you, have you not?" Emily questioned suddenly, her eyes peering through her.

"Yes, of course." And she had. In the spare moments she found herself not working or sneaking around with Damon, she had been practising. Her transfiguration spell was pretty solid (she could make a dagger that actually cut things now, though the very tip was still a bit feathery) and she had learnt a few simple healing spells. Nothing that could bring someone back from the dead, but it was a start.

"Then? That is enough."

"No it isn't –"

Emily cut her off with a sharp look. "There is nothing more important than a witch's understanding and control of the fundamental elements of her craft."

"I understand the elements –"

"But you lack the control." She concluded, moving forward to place herself beside Bonnie on the bed.

"I understand," she continued in softer tones, "you only wish to ease my burden, but you have lacked the opportunity to develop these skills fully, Bonnie. This spell is beyond you."

Feeling slightly offended, Bonnie couldn't help but point out, "I did it once before. It was easy."

Emily's eyes narrowed, the corner of her lip turning down the smallest degree. If Bonnie hadn't spent so much time with her she probably wouldn't have noticed. "Yes. It is a wonder it did not kill you."

* * *

Bonnie struggled to read the finely printed words in the constant flickering light. Damon had lent her _Jane Eyre_ before their blowout over Katherine. She hadn't gotten very far. She didn't have much time for reading and the wavering light from the candle played havoc with her eyes. It was a wonder anyone got anything done before the invention of the light-bulb. Bonnie could barely function after sunset. This would definitely not be one of the things she missed when...

Despair twisted inside her gut. She couldn't, in good conscience, leave Emily to work alone on the spell, no matter what she said. Closing the book, no longer interested in reading, she watched blandly as the shadows within the room danced across the walls in tune with the sputtering flame beside her. They blinked in and out of existence, shifting shapes and sizes.

It was incredible how light needed dark in order to exist, and vice versa. When she was younger she used to marvel at the sun and how it painted shadows across the earth. That is, of course, after she realized they weren't just living, breathing beings on their own like in Peter Pan. There was this old sun dial in the park by her house that she used to love. It took her forever to figure out how it actually worked, but once she did it was the most amazing –

Wait...

Bonnie shot straight up, suddenly feeling very alert as an idea began to form.

Light created shadow. You could control a shadow – where it appeared, how dark it was, it's shape, how long it reached... You definitely had more control over a shadow than a grain of sand.

_I have to tell Emily,_ she thought, already half way across the room when something hard tapped against her window.

Despite her excitement she paused, head tilted slightly as she listened. It had been raining for a while now, and it didn't sound like it would be letting up anytime soon. She had gotten used to the patter of droplets on her windowpane, but this –

There it was again! It was definitely something harder than water. It had made a snapping sound... There wasn't a tree beside her window, was there?

She tried to remember from the one time she had looked out of it. _**Snap.**_

She frowned. This really wasn't important, but it would continue to irritate her until she figured it out because she was _certain_ she recognized it, whatever it was. It sounded like –

_**Snap.**_

Stones. It sounded like stones hitting glass. But who would be -?

_Oh dear Lord. Please let it be a tree,_ she thought, climbing onto her bed to look out of her window... just in time to see a stone bounce off the glass. And not five feet away stood Damon Salvatore.

She pried the window ajar the small amount it would open. Then standing on her toes, she managed to lean forward as far as window would allow. The rain had slowed to something more than drizzle and it felt refreshing against her warm skin.

"Are you in –" She stopped short. She didn't even know why she bothered asking. Clearly he was insane. "How did you even know this was my window? It could have belonged to anyone."

He shook his head as if the idea was absurd. "Your room is fifth down on the eastern side of the East Wing. I took note when last I was here."

Her brow furrowed. "You were drunk."

"Drunk, but not unobservant."

She rolled her eyes. He was ridiculous. "Why are you here, Damon?"

"Why, I'm here for you. Come outside, Bonnie."

"It's raining." She protested, noticing for the first time his wet appearance. His hair was damp and plastered to his forehead. It looked even more unruly than usual. His clothes were clearly soaked through. "How long have you been out here?"

"I had to collect the stones, hadn't I? And I will be forced to collect more if you dare retreat." He smirked playfully at her.

A long breath stole between her lips as her toes began to cry from the weight put on them. She wouldn't be able to hold this position for much longer.

"Go inside, Damon, before you catch your death."

"Afraid of a little water, Miss Bonnie?" He teased, his smirk widening to which she frowned in response. "No ailment shall befall either one of us, I assure you."

_That's not very reassuring,_ Bonnie thought even as she lowered herself out of view. The relief shot from her toes all the way up her legs, making her groan audibly. Pointing her toes was excruciatingly beautiful, and she took the moment to enjoy the sensation before putting on her shoes, blowing out her candle and feeling her way out into the dark hallway.

This was probably for the best. She couldn't tell him off properly from that tiny window anyways.

* * *

Of course the moment she stepped foot outside the skies opened fully and it started to pour. It was probably the cosmos trying to tell her she was an idiot. Nothing she didn't already know.

Now, standing outside in the pouring rain with Damon Salvatore, Bonnie was suddenly very grateful for the dull, muddy brown garment she was wearing. Damon's own white cotton shirt was clinging like a second skin and leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. It was hard to believe that anyone of the 1800s could be so... well, built. Bonnie was finding it surprisingly difficult to keep her eyes above chest level.

"Couldn't you have at least worn layers?" She exclaimed, frustrated more with herself than him.

He smiled widely at her, eyes sparkling with some sort of inner light. "It is far too warm for layers."

"You're delusional." It was late. It was raining. It was cold. "Why am I out here?"

"To enjoy _this_." He answered, closing his eyes and spreading his arms wide to indicate everything around them. "I love the rain."

"Really?"

She squinted up at him, trying not to get rain in her eyes as she tried to imagine 2010 Damon doing something similar. Standing in a downpour, sans leather jacket; face slightly upturned toward the sky, hair plastered to his face; arms wide open, black T-shirt hugging every line of every muscle; jeans slung low on his hips from the weight of the water...

Bonnie pulled on the collar of her dress feeling suddenly flushed. Maybe it was too warm for layers...

"Ever since I was a child," Damon spoke, drawing her attention back to the moment, "I would steal away into the rain at any opportunity. My mother..."

She waited silently as he paused. There was a weight to the silence telling her whatever this was, it was important. Slowly, he opened his eyes to look at her. The inner light had dimmed, but not extinguished.

"My mother would... scold me for being reckless. More for Stefan's sake than for mine. Even as an infant Stefan idolized me. 'Where ever Damon leads,' my mother used to say, 'Stefan will surely follow.' So if I were to walk out into the middle of a storm –"

"So would he." Bonnie finished for him. He nodded solemnly before turning on his heel and walking into the darkness.

Frowning, she started after him. They walked in silence for a long while, the only sounds around them that of the rain pressing down on the blades of the grass, until finally they came to stop under a tall oak. Bonnie watched as Damon rested against the rough bark of the tree, his cotton shirt pulling even tighter against his skin as it snagged on something. From this angle she could make out each individual ab –

_Stop it, Bonnie!_ She scolded herself, tearing her eyes away and up to meet his own staring intently back at her.

Her cheeks felt like they were on fire. She could probably die from the shear embarrassment alone, though spontaneous combustion also seemed like a viable option. Semi-frozen in a state of humiliation, it took her a moment to realized he hadn't even noticed her ogling him. Relief flooded her petite frame as she took in the way his brow had crumpled in thought.

She was aware the exact moment he came out of his head and was truly looking at her. She felt her skin prickle when his eyes connected with hers.

"What did my brother have to say to you?"

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Stefan?"

His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized her. "I hadn't realized you and my brother were so familiar."

Bonnie stiffened. She got the distinct feeling she was treading on thin ice. "We... aren't."

"And yet you call him Stefan." He concluded, his tone accusatory.

"That is his name."

"I remember quite distinctly you being adamant about calling _me,_ Mr. Salvatore. I had to convince you otherwise." He took a few steps forward, erasing the space between them. Bringing his face level with hers, he made sure their eyes were locked before repeating, "And yet you call _him_ Stefan, as if it were the most _natural_ thing in the world... which leads me to believe you and my dear brother are previously acquainted."

Bonnie somehow managed to swallow past the dryness in her mouth as she struggled to play off the accusation. Forcing a laugh that sounded hollow to even her ears, she dismissed the idea with a wave. "Don't be absurd. I... I can honestly say I've known him for as long as I've known you."

_Good answer._

Taking in the way he was glaring at her, Bonnie could tell Damon didn't agree.

"Are you meeting him illicitly as well?"

"Where would I find the time?" She scoffed, suddenly exasperated, "I'm always with _you_."

That seemed to satisfy him somewhat. The irritation relaxed from his features and he straightened up, moving back over to the trunk. His hands found the rough edges of the bark and he began to pick at it idly.

Biting her lip, Bonnie slowly closed the distance between them. Leaning her broken arm lightly against the trunk, she rested her head on its scratchy bark as she watched his hands work. Then, before she could stop herself, she asked, "What would it even matter, if I were friends with Stefan?"

Hands freezing against the trunk, he studied her for a long moment with wide, disbelieving eyes. Gradually, his features eased out and he focused back on the tree.

"Not anything. You are free to be friends with whomever you choose."

"Bullshit. It would annoy you... Why?"

The corner of his lips pulled up at her vulgarity, but he refused to meet her eye. His chest rose and fell with a great breath and then, quietly, he spoke. She had to strain to hear him over the precipitation.

"My brother and I... We know one another best. But there are instances when I believe that even he does not understand me." His blue eyes peeked at her from behind dark lashes, before refocusing in front of him. "He could not possibly understand what it is to be brother to a man like him."

A shiver raked her frame as the breeze sent strands of her wet hair across her cheek.

"The world has been kind to Stefan. He knows precisely what he wishes for his future, he never speaks out of turn or brings shame to the family. He is the ideal son. Mother adored him; Father wishes he were his only son; Katherine..."

Her shoulder brushed his lightly and she realized, with a start, how close she had gotten. But before she could back away his eyes found hers, pinning her to the spot.

His eyes were the most telling thing about him. He let his every emotion reflect through them. She couldn't place what she was seeing in them now. They were bright, almost bluer than normal as he leaned further into the little space left between them.

"I suspect that Miss Katherine favours him." He confided, his tone hushed and conspiratorial.

She pressed her lips together, not sure what to say. She jumped when his fingers grazed her cheek, heat trailing in their wake, as he swept her hair back behind her ear.

"I couldn't bear if you preferred him too. I want you all to myself, Bonnie." His mouth quirked up gently. "As selfish as it is."

A tremor crawled its slow way up her spine that had nothing to do with the wind. Clearing her throat, she tried to focus on anything but her racing heart, or how much curlier his hair was when it was wet, or how close he was standing.

"Stefan knows about us." She blurted, cringing at how much it sounded like an affair.

Damon blinked owlishly, temporarily frozen in place. "Pardon?"

"That's what he was speaking to me about today. He was concerned about what you were getting yourself into."

His brow furrowed, still stuck on the discovery of having been caught. "But how?"

_The way you look at me._ Bonnie's cheeks burned at the memory of what Stefan claimed, but she couldn't bring herself to say that, so instead she settled for, "I don't know. Maybe he'll tell you. He said he would be speaking to you about this soon."

He groaned loudly, turning to lean his back against the tree. "That will surely be a joy." Sighing, he shot her a grave look before adding, "We must take greater care in future, Bonnie, to ensure this does not occur again."


	10. Nursemaid

**There are several reasons for the late update. One of the main reasons was, and still is, a massive drop in confidence concerning my writing - that, in turn, caused writers block that I'm still getting over. I'm not exactly happy with this chapter, much like I haven't been happy with anything I've written for the past few months, but I am happy that I'm writing at all (for a while I simply couldn't).**

**But I don't want to focus on the negative, and I have A LOT of reasons to be grateful. Namely, all of you dear readers. Honestly, I have to thank each and every one of you for every review you've ever left me. Your incredible support and love is what helped me to write both this chapter and in general. And for everyone who voted for me for the Bamon-Awards, thank you so much. I have the most amazing and dedicated readers in the world. I sincerely hope you enjoy this chapter and that you won't have to wait so long for the next update.**

**This chapter is dedicated to babyshan211. Thank you for all your help!**

* * *

Bonnie squinted against the sunlight streaming into the library from the large windows and frowned.

_Why do I listen to Damon?_

If she hadn't let him talk her into getting drenched yesterday she would have woken up today feeling refreshed and ready for the day's work. Instead, her head felt like a slow building pressure cooker and she struggled not to curl up on one of the large, plush chairs that inhabited the room and drift asleep.

Finishing off the last of the shelves, Bonnie sighed. Now, finally, it was off back to her cubby-hole of a room for a nice, long nap before dinner.

Uplifted by the prospect of finally being able to rest, Bonnie all but sprang out of the library and into the oncoming tray of soup carried by a young woman.

Luckily for Bonnie, though rather unfortunately for the woman, the tray grazed her good arm in a way that sent the scalding liquid away from herself keeping her safe and dry. The woman was an entirely different matter.

Shocked into stillness, Bonnie watched as the young woman give a startled cry, stumbling back with lifted arms before crumpling onto the hall floor in a weeping mess. Her sobs seemed to pull Bonnie out of whatever stupor she froze into and she struggled to form an apology.

"I'm so sorry!" Bonnie exclaimed, rushing to the woman's side. She was simply covered in soup – chicken noodle by the smell of it. Vaguely, Bonnie couldn't help but notice that hardly any of the soup made it on the carpet. She blamed the last month spent cleaning for that little observation. Turning her attention back to the shaking form beside her, she continued, "I am so, so, so, so sorry. I didn't see you there. Are you alright?"

The woman's tears continued unhindered, if anything they increased and were joined by a slight keening sound that made Bonnie's stomach twist. Had she even heard her?

Bonnie bit her lip uncertain of what to do when the woman finally spoke between broken sobs, "Thomas is going to skin me, for sure – I know. I can't go back to that kitchen. He's already mad at me. If I go back he'll skin me. He will, he will. I can't go back."

Bonnie's good hand formed into a tight fist, her teeth still worrying her bottom lip, as she thought. She remembered Thomas, the grey man from the kitchen, and she knew the woman beside her had good reason to be concerned. In the brief instant Bonnie had interacted with the man it had seemed he was itching for an excuse to take out his aggression.

The woman sobbed harder and the pressure in Bonnie's head worsened. This was her fault. There was no way she was going to let Thomas get his hands on this girl when she had done absolutely nothing wrong.

"Hey..." Bonnie began slowly, in her most soothing of voices. It was hard to think around the tight cottony feeling in her head, but after some sluggish searching she came to a solution. "It's going to be okay. Thomas doesn't ever have to know about this."

That got the woman's attention, as she shot wide, watery eyes up at Bonnie, hope flashing in their depths.

"Here's what we'll do. I'll go and get another bowl of soup and take it where it needs to go, while you go and clean yourself and –" her eyes flickered briefly over the small mess on the floor – "all this up, and no one will be the wiser."

The woman's arms abruptly found purchase around Bonnie's neck, and Bonnie almost fell on top of the girl from the force of the tug. "Thank you," the woman repeated until Bonnie managed to pull herself away.

"Where am I taking this soup?"

"The soup goes straight to Mr. Salvatore."

Bonnie felt herself still. "Which one?"

"The elder son."

Bonnie struggled not to roll her eyes. "Of course." _It's always Damon._

* * *

After a small wrong turn somewhere in the second West Wing corridor, Bonnie managed to find the kitchen. It wasn't as busy as the last time she had been there, but just as oppressive. It seemed that the lunch rush had died and now there was a lull prior to the madness that was sure to be dinner.

Flicking her eyes around the kitchen, Bonnie quickly spotted Thomas in a corner, his back to her as he read something over. From the stiff set of his shoulders she could tell he was already in a mood. This was good though. If she could somehow get her hands on another bowl of soup and get out of there without him knowing, that would be perfect.

Her head hummed nastily as she attempted to brainstorm a game-plan. First M.O., she had to locate the soup.

"Bonnie?" A small voice to her right called quietly.

Turning towards the voice she smiled. "Gladys."

The woman who had helped Bonnie in the kitchens the last time she was here. They had seen each other around the grounds a few times since, and Bonnie had, not only, come to discover her name but also her generous soul. She was really very sweet and Bonnie enjoyed their brief interactions greatly.

"Wha ya do here?"

"There was a little accident with the soup for Mr. Salvatore. Any chance I could get another bowl full?"

Gladys glanced quickly at Thomas's preoccupied form. Relaxing, she smiled at Bonnie and nodded. "Stay here."

Gladys moved quickly across the room to grab a silver tray, spoon and a delicate porcelain bowl. Then expertly, with one arm holding the tray, she moved to a large copper pot and ladled a good helping of soup. Quicker than lightning she was standing in front of Bonnie again.

"Thank you." Bonnie said, slowly moving the tray so that a corner of it rested lightly on her broken arm and most of the weight was supported by her good hand.

"Lucky fi ya, dere was still plenty of soup." Gladys commented as she helped Bonnie adjust the tray for her comfort. "Now, go'on, before Thomas see ya."

Bonnie didn't need to be told twice.

* * *

Reaching the hallway on the second floor, Bonnie paused.

There were several plain white doors on either side of her and one up just a little further in front of her. She was certain Damon's room was beyond one of these doors, she just wasn't exactly sure which one.

_Okay, think. Katherine's room is behind that door._ Her eyes landed on the door to the right of a small table with a vase on it and she gave a tiny shudder. She wouldn't be forgetting that anytime soon. Refocusing, she continued to think despite her protesting head. _If I were Mr. Salvatore, I would put Katherine in the farthest room possible from Damon._

Which meant...

She turned to face the door farthest to the left near the banister of the stairs leading down.

_As good a guess as any,_ she thought as she made her way over before freezing awkwardly when she realized she had no way to open the door. Her one good arm was currently balancing a tray which after a few minutes had gotten considerably heavy. She glared menacingly at the door and contemplated her options.

What felt like minutes passed and nothing came to her. She shifted her weight impatiently in an attempt to ease her load by resting her good arm slightly on her hip. A deep, heavy breath lifted its way past her lips and she frowned.

If she couldn't figure out a way to open up this damn door soon –

The door gave a soft groan as it swung open and a wide-eyed Stefan unexpectedly stood in front of her.

"Bonnie..." he began, and then noticed the tray. "Ah. I see you brought the soup. You'll have to forgive me; I shall have to leave you with my brother for a short time. I'm afraid he's not in the best temper, as is the case any time he is bed-ridden."

She nodded sagely. "It's fine. I'm certain I can handle it."

He rewarded her with one of his small, warm Stefan smiles and moved to hold the door open for her. As she passed he whispered a quick good luck and then shut the door behind him.

Walking further into the room, what Bonnie saw brought her to a sudden halt. She had never seen anyone look so pathetic.

Damon lay in the midst of strewn covers, half on him and half on the floor, his forehead dripping unpleasantly with sweat and his shirt soaked through with it. He was pallid, his cheeks coarse with stubble and eyes circled darkly, perhaps from lack of sleep.

"You look like death warmed over."

He snorted darkly, his voice hoarse as he replied, "That is precisely what one wishes to hear whilst in the midst of dying."

"You're not dying, Damon." She assured matter-of-factly and made her way over to the small table by his bed, eager to set down her tray. He watched her with eyes bright from what she suspected was fever. She couldn't help feeling this was karmic justice for her headache, which had lessened slightly upon entering the room.

"Is that my soup?"

She nodded.

"I asked for that some time ago."

Bonnie pursed her lips and tried for patience. Stefan was right; this would not be fun.

Taking a steadying breath, she answered simply, "There was an incident. Now, sit up properly."

He did as he was told, managing to pull himself up to lean against his headboard. Then, carefully picking up the tray, Bonnie set it gently over his lap and backed away to lean against the bedside table.

A moment passed and nothing happened. Damon sat looking expectantly down at his tray as if he thought the soup would magically float its way past his lips if he stared at it long enough. Bonnie watched him curiously, wondering what the hell he was waiting for.

"Well?" He asked suddenly, lifting a brow even as he continued to stare down at his tray.

"Well?" She echoed, frowning.

He looked up at her, eyes widening in disbelief. "You cannot seriously mean for me to feed myself." He seemed baffled by the very notion.

"Yes I can."Her frown deepened.

"But I'm convalescing!"

"Well, I can't feed you. I only have one good arm." She held her arm up to further illustrate her point.

"Precisely! One perfectly good, usable arm with which you can feed me."

She felt her jaw drop as she shook her head. "No. Damon, you're perfectly capable of feeding yourself."

His lips pushed together in the semblance of a pout, which failed to gather any sympathy from her. She ignored the flutter in her stomach. He was so horribly pathetic.

"This is no way to treat an invalid, Bonnie." He whispered hoarsely, and she winced just imagining how sore it must feel. "If I perish from the effort, think of how guilty you'll feel."

"I promise not to feel any guilt." She countered even as the pesky emotion pawed at her chest. "Now eat. The soup will be good for your throat."

He heaved a sigh. Making a large show of effort, which she was sure was completely put on, he picked up his spoon and lowered it into the soup. Raising the spoon slowly, his hand shook to a ridiculous degree, spilling most of its contents over its rim and back into the bowl below.

"Honestly!" she exclaimed, even as she struggled not to smile at his dramatics. Moving forward she grabbed the now empty spoon out of his hand and pointed it accusingly at him. "I have never met a man so incapable of taking care of himself."

"I need you, Bonnie." He answered pathetically, his overly bright eyes shining up at her and she frowned abruptly as she felt the fluttering in her stomach return and intensify. She backed up slightly and the distance between them seemed to ease the unsettling sensation.

"You brought this upon yourself, you know? It was you who assured me 'no ailment would befall either one of us.'" She said, tossing the words he had used yesterday back at him. She leaned her hip against his side-table and took in the picture he made in all its miserable glory. "And now look at you."

"It's customary, when visiting someone on their death bed, to pay your respects, not remind them how _ill_ they are and refuse to feed them their last meal."

She snorted derisively. "You're nowhere close to dying. You wouldn't leave me like that."

Bright blue eyes snapped to meet her green ones as her back stiffened uncomfortably. That hadn't come out right – the way that sounded – It sounded like she...

She shifted her gaze awkwardly, unsure where to look. She could feel his eyes boring into her – and suddenly she felt like _she_ was the one with the fever. Pulling at the collar of her dress, she cleared her throat and tried to clarify.

"I meant... in the sense that, I can't get rid of you – much like a rash... or the plague."

"Ah."

She watched from the corner of her eye as he refocused on his soup. Relaxing, she became aware of the weight in her hand and looked down to discover she was still holding his spoon. Sighing, she relented, "Alright, I'll help you, but I hope you know I'm only doing this because I'm such a good person."

The corner of his lips pulled up the tiniest degree. "The purity of your soul is a shining emblem for all."

Ignoring the sarcasm, Bonnie sat on the edge of his bed beside his tray. "This is not going to be easy." She remarked, noting the awkwardness of their positions. After many trial and error attempts they found a way of working together to get the soup from in the bowl to in his mouth rather than across his duvet.

Comfortable with the rhythm, Bonnie could take in the man in front of her. This much closer she could practically feel the sickness radiating off of him in waves. His breath was warm and heavy as it fanned across her hand with each spoonful she feed him.

"I hope I don't catch whatever it is that you have," she frowned.

Between mouthfuls, Damon answered thoughtfully. "Should that occur, I swear to play your nursemaid... and bring you soup dutifully... and the purity of my soul will be blinding."

Laughter brushed softly past her lips before she could stop it and she realized she wasn't as bothered by that fact as she would have been a few weeks before. So what? She found Damon funny. That wasn't such a bad thing. Though the smug smile spread across his face right now had her feeling differently.

Pursing her lips, she sobered. "You'd only do it because you felt guilty for making me sick in the first place."

"I do believe the pot is calling the kettle black."

"What does that even mean?" She asked, her hand pausing in its motion to gather more soup. She had heard the saying on several different occasions but didn't really understand it.

His brow furrowed in contemplation briefly before he answered, "I think... it means you're a hypocrite, Bonnie."

"What?" She exclaimed, narrowing her eyes. "How am I a hypocrite? I'm not guilty in the least."

"Oh?" He shot her a pointed look. "I traversed in the rain to see _you_. In truth, the blame could be placed entirely upon your person."

This time, the fluttering had expanded into something akin to lapping waves. Warm, languorous and disorienting, they spread across her stomach and she blanched, abruptly finding the deep mahogany wood of his side-table fascinating. "That's absurd. You're absurd."

"Your hair has changed." He noted unexpectedly as he lifted a heavy arm to tangle his hand in her curls. His fingers brushed gently against the base of her neck and she shivered, somehow managing to get goose-bumps even as her blood caught fire in her veins. Maybe she had already caught whatever Damon had?

"So soft." He uttered, sounding almost trance-like, his hand absently weaving strands between his fingers as he memorized the texture, and she was suddenly feeling very light-headed. Definitely sick. Irregular heartbeat, constricted breath, not to mention the fact that everywhere Damon touched felt like it was literally _on fire_.

"Miss. Katherine!"

Bonnie nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Stefan's voice just beyond the door, and she fought the urge to throw herself across the room to place as much distance between herself and Damon as possible. Forcing herself to take a few deep breaths, she felt less fever-ridden, her faculties slowly returning to normal.

"Have you come to visit my poor brother?" Stefan continued at a very unnatural volume and it made Bonnie look over her shoulder at the door questioningly while Damon let his hand drop back down to his side.

Was Stefan trying to warn them of the impending visitor...? Just what exactly did he think they were doing in here?

What _had_ they been doing in here? The warmth returned tenfold as she remembered the way Damon's hand had gotten lost in her hair, but she pushed that aside. There wasn't anything inappropriate about her feeding Damon soup was there?

She glanced over at Damon for some sort of clue, but he looked just as confused.

"I'm certain he shall appreciate the company."

If Katherine was answering at all Bonnie couldn't hear her; probably because she was speaking at a normal volume like a normal person.

"Allow me to open the door for you, and together we may _enter_."

Damon shot Bonnie a look that clearly conveyed his level of exasperation and she was forced her to bite her lip to keep from laughing in agreement. She only just managed to compose her features and continue feeding him when Stefan and Katherine entered the room.

"Miss. Katherine!" Damon exclaimed hoarsely, in tones much louder than necessary. His smile was teasing, and though it was directed at Katherine, Bonnie felt it was for her benefit. With her back to the two guests, she took comfort in knowing she could glare at him effectively without anyone else being the wiser. "To what do I owe the honour of this visit?"

"Do I require a reason to visit one of my favourite Salvatore brothers?" Katherine replied, her voice light and flirty.

_Clever,_ Bonnie thought darkly, _considering there's only two of them._

"Of course not. Forgive me. Your presence is always welcome." His features softened into genuine affection. It made Bonnie's stomach tighten horribly and the pressure in her head build.

"Whatever brought on this sudden ailment, do you think, Damon?" Katherine inquired innocently. Too innocently...

It dawned on Bonnie, as she stilled her movements in an effort to not draw attention to herself, that Stefan had come upon Katherine _lingering_ outside Damon's door. _Katherine_ with her vampire hearing. Bonnie's eyes rounded dramatically and she took a deep breath to stop her heartbeat from spiking. Katherine had heard something, that was a given ...The question was: how much?

Bonnie watched warily as Damon answered with a tired smile, "I have not the faintest idea. I suppose it must be a product of my ill fortune."

"There was a storm last eve. Did not you hear it? Perhaps you caught a draft from your window."

Damon's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, but his face gave nothing away. "Yes, that is quite possible."

"The book you requested, Damon." Stefan said, stepping forward to place a thin novel on his bedside table. "It took me quite a while to locate it. It was in an entirely different area from where you claimed it would be."

Bonnie forced herself to gather another spoonful of soup and was rewarded with the sound of metal scraping against porcelain. Looking down, she noticed the empty bowl and took that as her cue to leave. Standing suddenly, she bent to attempt to pick up the tray with one hand when Stefan stopped her.

"Please, allow me."

And before she could protest he had lifted the tray and was offering it to her. She took it from him slowly, with a smile of thanks, making sure to adjust it so that it sat on her much like before. Turning, she was greeted with Katherine's hard eyes and soft smile.

Creepy.

Aiming for polite, Bonnie smiled, though it pulled at her face unnaturally and landed somewhere closer to a grimace, and said, "If you'll excuse me."

"Of course," Katherine replied, moving to one side and allowing Bonnie to pass. Stefan followed her to the door in order to open it and she thanked him once again. Hearing the door close behind her she made a mad dash down the stairs, wanting to put as much distance between herself and everything in that room.


	11. Bonbon

**DISCLAIM!**

**What's this? Another update in less than a year? Minor success!**

**As always, thank you to all the reviewers! You're truly the best!**

**So, I'm pretty excited about posting this chapter, though I'm still not _happy_ with it - no news there. I'm hoping you guys will really like this one. I mean, _really_ like it. lol. But we'll see. I'm still struggling with the blockage, plus my newly formed hatred for the show (I've stopped watching, it's that bad), but I'm hoping that the next update won't take a year. Also, small note about chocolate - I have no idea what it would taste like in the 1800s but I imagine it wouldn't be the same as now, they wouldn't add as much sugar... so humour me. **

**Food For Thought: Someone asked me why Stefan was so willing to help Bonnie and Damon keep their secret last chapter and I thought it was a very good question, so I decided to make it an FFT. Here's my reasoing - ****I figure it's partly just his nature, because he's such a great person and I couldn't really see him throwing stones at them in any sense. But mainly it's a love for his brother and not wanting Damon to incur society's wrath for an unorthodox friendship. Especially during a civil war. Could you imagine? ****Also, I doubt he would want to see Bonnie beaten or killed (a very real possibility) just for being friends with his brother, so he's protecting them even though he doesn't fully understand their relationship.**

* * *

Bonnie had never been in a billiard room before, besides the recreation area of The Mystic Grille and that wasn't the same thing. The small room she was in now was quite literally devoted to the table sport with not much in it besides the pool table which, oddly enough, didn't look to have any pockets for the balls. There was a small cue rack against the wall to her left, a few chairs lined against the other walls, a potted plant in one corner and an unobtrusive side-table or two, but very little else occupied the space and Bonnie wondered what in world she was meant to be dusting.

She nibbled thoughtfully on her bottom lip and eyed the dark wood panelling of the pool table. Maybe she could dust that?

"Hello, Bonnie."

Bonnie spun to find Damon's smiling face a few inches away from her own. Her heart jumped out of her chest and she stifled the urge to give him a swift kick. Her eyes shot to the entrance of the room to find the door closed securely. Damon must have shut it as he came in; how had she not heard it? Turning her attention back to the man in question, she frowned.

"You enjoy scaring me, don't you?"

"I don't deny it," he answered with a half-shrug. "It took me ages to find you. Are you not usually cleaning in the dining area at this time?"

"Yeah, well I..." Wait a second – "How do you know that?"

She studied him closely as he stiffened, his cheeks tinting ruby and his gaze focused just above her head on the wall behind her. "I... We're friends. It is not so uncommon for a friend to take note of such things."

"I suppose so." She agreed, though she made no effort to mask her scepticism. Deciding to let the matter drop she concentrated on something else. "You look well."

The red in his cheeks faded, but he kept his eyes fixed to the wall as he nodded, "Yes, I am much recovered. Thank you."

"See. You didn't even die a little bit," she teased with a light smile.

His eyes finally dropped to hers, no longer bright with fever but still the clearest blue she'd ever seen, and he offered her a soft smile. "No, not even a little. It would seem my fears were unwarranted after all." He cleared his throat then, his gaze dropping briefly before finding hers again. "I went into town today."

"Oh?" She tried to sound politely curious, but she was sure her confusion was obvious.

"I brought you back something."

Her eyes widened considerably. "For me?"

His smile broadened in response.

Shaking her head frantically, Bonnie protested. "Whatever it is, I can't accept it."

"Why ever not?" He had the gall to sound exasperated with her.

"_Because_," she began as if speaking to someone exceptionally slow, "it's inappropriate."

"That's hardly an excuse," he said, brushing off her argument with a wave of his hand. "Our entire acquaintance is inappropriate."

He made a valid point.

"Regardless, you shouldn't be running around buying me things."

"I assure you, there was no running involved."

Bonnie rolled her eyes skyward and begged for patience. He was always such a smartass.

She hadn't noticed he had been holding one of his hands behind his back until he moved it in front of her face to reveal a small round chocolate. "When I saw it I could not help but think of you."

She felt her cheeks warm rapidly. Why was she blushing over stupid chocolate? She narrowed her eyes critically at the offending candy. "Because it's black?" she questioned accusingly, even though she was 99 percent sure that wasn't the reason.

He titled his head slightly as he regarded her, brow crumpling in confusion. "No, don't be silly." His eyes flickered to the chocolate and, if possible, his brow creased even more. "Though, now that you mention it..."

A smile broke across his face so wide she was surprised it fit as he stepped closer. She fought the urge to maintain the distance and take a step back.

"_This_ is a bonbon for the only Bon-Bon of my acquaintance."

_What. A. Nerd,_ she thought with teasing affection, trying to restrain her smile as she took in the joy on his face. "How long have you been waiting to say that?"

"A good while now. It was worth the wait. Take it. A token of my gratitude for taking such good care of me."

She reached a hesitant hand forward, feeling the paper crinkle beneath her fingers as she lifted the confection out of his grasp. Peeling the wrapping back, very aware of Damon watching her every move, she took a timid bite.

Her nose scrunched involuntarily, even as she fought to keep her features neutral. The chocolate swirled around her tongue in an unrelentingly bitter wave with nothing to sweeten it. It was like dark chocolate on crack.

_But it's not dark chocolate, is it?_

She scrutinized the bonbon closer, noting its light milky complexion, and had to wonder.

"Verdict?" Damon questioned with hushed excitement, his eyes boring into her intently.

"It's, uh... strong."

Confusion tightened his brow. "Have you not had chocolate before?"

"Not like this. Where I'm from it's sweeter."

There was a lull where Bonnie held the bonbon loosely between her fingers and Damon watched her expectantly. When the lull began to drag and she had yet to take another bite, he spoke:

"Am I to understand that you don't care for it?"

"No, I _do_ care for it!"

"You don't care for it." He affirmed with a sudden frown, eyes dimming. He abruptly became very interested with the cuffs of his shirt.

"No, I do!" she exclaimed, feeling the overwhelming need to convince him she liked the bloody chocolate even though he was right – she hated it. "Look, see?"

He kept his head down, but she knew he was watching, could feel him peering at her from under his lashes. Doing her best not to scrunch her face up in distaste she shoved the bitter sweet in her mouth and began to chew.

"Mm," she managed vaguely as the chocolate crumpled and melted between her teeth. She even nodded her head for emphasis. His lips quirked as he watched her thinly veiled attempt to placate him, but he refused to lift his head or say a word. She stubbornly continued to chew, the harsh flavour coating her tongue thickly and making her eyes water. "Mmhmm. Good."

The quirk became a full blown smirk yet he remained unmoved.

"It's so... layered. What's not to like?" she finished feebly.

Damon released a sharp and sudden, "Ha!" Finally he lifted his head, meeting her eyes dead on. His gaze was soft with mirth, but the upraised corner of his lip exposing his canines was sharp. "I will be certain to purchase you another one in future, since you so thoroughly enjoyed this one."

She glared and mumbled reluctantly, "I look forward to it."

The lines of his mouth relaxed and his attention fell to her lips. "You've made a mess of yourself." His thumb brushed the seam of her bottom lip and her pulse spiked. She swallowed past the unexpected dryness of her throat, only noticing once she felt lightheaded that she wasn't breathing.

Damon, for his part, seemed distracted as he continued to swipe his thumb back and forth against the fullness of her lip. It was making her head spin.

He needed to stop. What if someone saw them like this? They would think something was happening that most definitely wasn't happening... and then she'd be killed!

Somehow, she found her voice lodged where it was at the back of her throat and whispered, "Damon."

As if waking from a dream, his eyes slowly focused on her before widening dramatically. His hand snapped to his side where he held it rigidly, fists clenched so tight his knuckles began to turn white. "I – Forgive me, I... there was chocolate! I meant no offense. I swear on my mother's memory, I would never –"

"It's fine, Damon," she reassured. "I know you would never..." She trailed off, not knowing how to finish the sentence.

_Never, what? Kiss me?_

She frowned, not liking the way the thought twisted at her stomach.

"Good," he answered more to himself than her. Nodding slightly, his gaze was locked on some point behind her, perhaps the potted plant in the corner. "I should leave you to your work."

If he was capable of vampire speed, she was certain he would have used it at that moment. As it was he made it out of the room with remarkable speed for a human. With his departure, Bonnie felt the tension seep out of the room and her body, but it did nothing to quiet the pounding of her heart.

* * *

Bonnie was situated in the parlor room, sweeping her duster absentmindedly across a shelf when she heard voices travelling down the corridor. Not such an unusual thing, but, though she couldn't make out what they were saying, she could tell they were raised in argument and that made her pause to listen closer.

The voices were male and obviously very angry. She strained to pick something out, keeping completely still, but to no avail. They were too far away. Bonnie scoffed suddenly, shaking her head at herself. When had she started eavesdropping as a way to entertain herself? Bonnie was not a gossip-monger. She was big on privacy... but really, there was very little else to do for entertainment here.

She jumped unexpectedly at the sound of a door being slammed down the hallway.

Turning back to the shelf she tried to focus on her work when Damon came charging into the room. Spinning swiftly around, she watched as he stormed across the space without so much as a sideways glance at her. He headed straight for the decanters of liquor at the bar and poured himself a generous helping of something she suspected was bourbon.

He swirled the brown liquid petulantly in his glass before tossing it back and pouring himself another helping.

For some reason, Bonnie found herself hesitating to draw attention to her presence. Maybe it was because she had always found Damon the most intimidating when he was on the brink of an emotional meltdown, or maybe it had to do with the lingering awkwardness she felt pulsing through her veins since last week's bonbon incident.

Either way it took her a while to find her voice. "Damon?"

His frame, already tense, stiffened further. Keeping his back to her, he tilted his head in her direction in acknowledgement while downing his drink. Barely restrained frustration rolled off him, making the air pregnant and heavy. But Bonnie bit back her concern when rustling skirts in the hallway forced her to drag her attention back to her work.

"Damon, there you are," Katherine exclaimed, entering the room loudly. "I heard voices. Is something the matter?"

Bonnie listened carefully as he let out a weighted sigh. "Nothing that concerns you, Miss Katherine."

"If it upsets you so greatly, Damon, it concerns me," Katherine answered demurely. "Mayhap I can be of some assistance?"

_Ugh. Where's a stake when you need one?_ Bonnie thought darkly.

"It would seem I am to be drafted," he revealed with a humourless laugh that made Bonnie's blood run cold. She stood perfectly still, not even bothering to keep up the pretense of dusting, as she waited for him to continue. "So you see there is nothing for it, unless you can stop the war, Miss Katherine."

"If it were in my power to do so, I would. So much unnecessary bloodshed: it's such a waste."

It was the first time Katherine had said something Bonnie believed might be true and it made her already cold blood turn to ice.

"Indeed," Damon replied earnestly, not understanding what it was he was really agreeing with.

Turning discretely, Bonnie found a table to her right that would afford her a view of Damon and Katherine without drawing too much attention to herself. Moving to it, she began to sweep her duster lightly along the surface while keeping her head ducked just enough that she could watch them covertly.

Katherine had her back to her, but Bonnie was certain she was aware of her presence. Katherine closed the distance between her and Damon and brought her voice to just above a whisper. Loud enough that Bonnie could hear, but low enough that it seemed she was _trying_ not to be overheard.

"I may not be able to stop the war, Damon, but I can give you a proper send off. One worthy of a man of your caliber."

Bonnie's lip curled unpleasantly, but she managed not to scoff in disgust.

Damon flushed a flattering rose colour, his eyes widening to twice their normal size. "Miss Katherine, I..." He bowed his head. "I would be honoured to share my last few hours here with you."

_WHAT?_ Bonnie nearly screamed before catching herself._ What the hell is he playing at?_

She had never wanted to smack him harder than she did in this moment. And that included all the time she had spent with him in the 21st century.

"When do you depart?"

"Within the week."

"Well then, we shall have to make the most of the time left to us."

Bonnie became aware of the statuette floating off the table in front of her and placed her hand on top of it to set it back down. She took deep breaths and tried to clear her head from the insistent ringing in her ears that sounded an awful lot like _kill Katherine_.

"Miss Katherine, I have no intention of taking advantage of your friendship -"

"None sense. I won't take no for an answer. I expect to see you this very evening."

"Tonight?"

Bonnie's eyes widened with alarm as she spotted the piano stool lifting from the floor just behind Katherine. Fortunately, both Katherine and Damon were too engrossed in their conversation to notice and so Bonnie concentrated really hard on getting it back down and _not _slamming it into Katherine's back.

"Why of course."

"I'm afraid I simply cannot tonight. I have a prior engagement."

Bonnie felt her eyebrows rising as Katherine questioned with polite incredulousness, "Oh?"

"You see, I've been meaning to take Lenore out for a ride for some time now. It's very important to me." Damon let his eyes slip past Katherine to meet Bonnie's over her shoulder. His electric blues held her frozen for a small significant second as he conveyed a silent message.

"Your horse?"

He brought his attention back to Katherine. "Yes. I may not receive another opportunity. You understand, don't you?"

"Of course!" she exclaimed, her voice tight with false compassion. "I cannot say I'm not disappointed, but I understand how close a man and his _horse_ can be."

There was something about the way she said that that made Bonnie's skin crawl and she found herself turning involuntarily away from the scene. Behind her, she heard the rustling of skirts as Katherine made her way through the room, but as quickly as it began it came to a halt.

"Oh hello, Bonnie. My, you are _everywhere_, aren't you?"

Bonnie turned her head and took in Katherine's empty smile before returning one of her own. "Only where I need to be, Miss."

Katherine hummed thoughtfully and continued on her way.

Bonnie waited patiently for a few moments before chancing conversation. "Lenore, huh?"

"If you would not like to –"

"No, I don't mind." And she really didn't.

* * *

The night air was warm as they walked along silently beside one another. Summer was fast approaching. She had already spent nearly two months trapped a hundred plus years in the past; it was enough to make her head spin. So much had changed since she arrived: she was a stronger witch thanks to Emily, she knew how to have a bath with only a bucketful of water and one hand, she was an expert at dusting, knew how to ride a horse and was good friends with Damon Salvatore of all people.

It wasn't as difficult to reconcile her fondness of this Damon to the Damon she would one day know anymore. Lately, she had been comparing the two and she had come to realize that despite the all-together bad attitude and utter lack of impulse control Vampire Damon had, they really weren't all that different. On the few occasions she had spoken to 21st century Damon, he had proven to be very intelligent and witty, though he often used his wit maliciously. Both Damons shared a devil-may-care attitude and a desperate need for approval.

The biggest difference between them was that this Damon was innocent and excited by the multitude of possibilities that life had to offer him while the Damon he would one day become was jaded, cynical and tainted by the blood on his hands.

_Maybe he's more like his human self when he's with Elena. Maybe that's why she cares for him so much..._ The thought tugged uncomfortably at her insides and she tried to push it down. It would explain why Elena was always so willing to forgive him. If she knew the man Bonnie had gotten to know...

The tugging intensified and she frowned, trying to breath around it.

"You're deep in thought?" Damon noted from beside her.

"Yeah. I was just thinking about... home."

"Canada?"

Bonnie paused mid-step, brow crinkling. "What?"

Damon continued on, one hand holding Lenore's reins gently as he guided her behind him. He had been walking her for some time now, and Bonnie was beginning to suspect that he had no real intention of riding her tonight. Without missing a step he answered over his shoulder, "Your home."

"Oh!"

Her eyes bugged as she remembered that bit of information. "Right, that – yeah, that _is_ what I was thinking of."

She balled her skirt in her good hand and sprinted lightly to catch up to him, letting the fabric fall back in place once they were in step.

"Do you miss it?"

"Sometimes," she answered honestly, focusing on the way the blades of grass bent under her shoes with each step, "but not as much as I used to. I mean, I still hope to go back someday –"

"Go back?" He stopped walking suddenly, so she stopped too. His gaze was heavy when it landed on her, but she met it dead on.

"I'm only here temporarily," she admitted, feeling oddly guilty about not telling him earlier.

"Oh," he said, voice smaller than she'd heard it in a long time. He nodded sagely, his eyes straying to her ear. "I imagine your family must miss you a great deal."

"I wouldn't think so. My grandmother, she..." Bonnie took a deep breath," she passed away not too long ago, and my father is the only family I have left, but he's usually away on business, so it's really just me."

His attention snapped back to her again as he questioned, "What of your mother?"

Another deep breath.

"She left when I was still young."

"Left? To go where?" He asked, genuinely perplexed.

"She never said. She just left."

"How could a mother abandon her child?"

His eyes bored into hers as if they held the answer to his question and Bonnie realized how abstract a concept it must seem to him. Trying to imagine a woman choosing to leave her family when she had very little to no rights of her own.

She shook her head. "I don't know. But what I lack in family I make up for in friends, and honestly, we've known each other for so long that they _are_ family to me."

"Tell me of them."

She studied him then, taking in the curiosity sparking behind his baby blues, and it dawned on her that in all their conversations she had rarely spoken about herself. Maybe because she didn't want to have to remember the lies and omissions that would be necessary to divulge any real information. Or more likely, it was the fact that she hadn't trusted him enough to talk about her inner most thoughts and fears the way he did.

Did she trust him now?

_Yeah, I do._

The answer came quickly and it didn't startle or upset her like it would have a couple weeks ago. And if she could hedge out all the futuristic details, what would be the harm in just talking?

Taking a few aimless steps, she waited for him to fall into step beside her before starting in. He listened animatedly as she spoke, asking the appropriate questions at the right intervals. She found herself hesitating to bring up Elena, the future love of Damon's life, instead telling stories about Caroline and Matt for longer than strictly necessary.

Eventually, she pushed her foolish trepidation aside and broached the subject of her oldest friend. Damon remained as politely curious as he had with Caroline and Matt, and Bonnie felt oddly relived. It was silly really. Had she really thought he would latch onto the subject of Elena and try to drain her dry for every drop of information he could get? And even if he did, why should she care?

After spending a few minutes on Elena, she moved on to Jeremy and Damon's insatiable curiosity seemed to vanish.

A lull fell naturally within her monologue as he tied Lenore's reins to a low branch on the willow tree they occasionally frequented. He took the pause as an opportunity to speak, keeping his focus on the knot he was making, his tone casual.

"This Jeremy... you speak fondly of him. Is he your betrothed?"

"Betrothed?" She echoed, confusion pulling the corners of her mouth down as she tried to remember what that meant. "Wait, you mean my fiancé?"

"Yes."

Laughter danced past her lips and hovered in the night air between them. "Jeremy? Not a chance! He's Elena's little brother."

"And?"

"And I've never thought of him in that way."

"Never thought of him?" he repeated baffled. He studied her sharply, leaning against tree and letting his cotton shirt snag carelessly. "Has your father not made arrangements for you?"

Bonnie prickled at the idea. "My father wouldn't dare. When I marry it'll be for love."

"Is that so?"

The smallest of smiles teased at his lips, and his eyes crinkled charmingly. He seemed suddenly lighter than he had a few moments ago.

"How about you? What would entice the great Damon Salvatore to matrimony?"

He crossed his arms against his chest and frowned, shaking his head gravely. "I'm ashamed to call you my friend, Bonnie. Clearly you know me very little to have to ask. Anyone who is _truly_ acquainted with me would know I could only be enticed by one thing: money, and lots of it."

"Oh, forgive me. I forgot you were a heartless gold-digger," she smirked.

"More shame you," he deadpanned.

"It's becoming clear to me, due to your lack of morality, that I'm the conscience, reason and common sense in this relationship."

Damon looked at her then, his eyes sharp and searching while a soft smile snuck across his lips. He stood for a moment just watching her before replying, "I resent that. I possess all of those qualities in spades."

"Right. You just don't use them."

"Ha!" He barked, shaking his head slightly as his smile grew wider. "Very well. In that case, I am the..." He tilted his head back, his eyes searching the stars as if for inspiration, "spontaneity, creativity and... fun."

He swung his focus towards her suddenly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Why, Bonnie, without me you'd be Stefan."

She felt her jaw slacken as breath passed dramatically through her lips in a gasp. Taking in her expression Damon began to chuckle, which was like adding salt to the wound, but despite how hard she tried to glare she only managed to squint half-heartedly and laugh along with him.

All too soon the laughter faded into a sombre silence. It wrapped thickly around them as they both remembered the clock ticking away above their heads.

"When will you leave, do you think?" he questioned with quiet reluctance.

"I don't know. Not for some time still."

At least she hoped not. She had told Emily about her shadow theory but hadn't really had a chance to talk to her about it since.

A thought yanked incessantly at the corner of her mind and try as she might she couldn't push it away. Her mouth started forming the words even as she cringed around them, "Are you going to see Miss Katherine before you leave?"

His gaze was probing, as it had been all night, as if he were waiting for some signal. "Perhaps. Would that upset you?"

_Yes,_ her mind hissed viciously,_ I'd think you're the biggest idiot I've ever met._

She really didn't feel like getting into another argument with him, especially when he'd be leaving soon, so instead she shrugged indifferently. "Why should it? You're a grown man; you can make your own decisions."

His shoulders lowered and he bowed his head. "It might be nice."

Bonnie bit her lip so hard she tasted blood.

Damon slipped past her, further into the tall grassy field before tossing himself haphazardly onto the ground. Making her slow way over to him, she was strongly reminded of the last time she had seen him in this position. The night she had won her hat – the one she looked quite well in. The night they had fought.

She shifted awkwardly, not knowing whether to join him or keep standing. He didn't seem aware of her presence, his attention fixed to the sky above him, gaze clouded over in thought. Whatever was on his mind it had something to do with the war he was being pulled into.

Sighing, she chose to join him. Taking a moment to get comfortable, she was conscious of the heat of him beside her, the blades of grass tickling the back of her nexk and how her shoulder brushed against his every so often.

"Bonnie?" he called so softly she wasn't sure she heard him at first.

"Yeah."

A pause stretched between them until she was convinced she had only imagined him speaking, when again his voice came, softer than even before. "I don't want to die."

Her heart shattered painfully in her chest, the shards landing somewhere around her lungs making each breath an endeavor. She twisted her head and took him in as he stared sightlessly up at the night sky. With great effort she managed to speak. "Damon... you're not going to die."

His head fell towards her, but from her glassy reflection she could tell he wasn't seeing her.

"You cannot be certain of that."

"I am. With everything I have inside me, I know for a fact you _will_ survive this."

"Many able bodied men go, but not all return, and those that do..."

Bonnie groaned. He wasn't listening.

Placing her hand against his cheek, she was momentarily distracted by the softness of his skin. Sometimes Damon came across as so statuesque; it was startling to find him soft to the touch. Pushing these thoughts away, she forced him to really look at her.

"Damon, listen to me. You're bigger than this. You're not dying on a battlefield."

"Everyone dies, Bonnie."

"Not you. You're going to live forever."

And she wanted him to. In that instant she wanted him to become the eternal stud with the bad attitude. She wanted his snarky comments, excessive drinking and reckless impulse. More than anything, she just wanted him to live, no matter how selfish that made her.

His warm hand came up to rest on hers at his cheek and she tried not to shiver.

"I would like that."

They stayed like that for some time, watching each other silently as he drew mindless patterns across the back of her hand.

"I wish," he spoke slowly, "there was another way."

"There's always another way."

He shook his head slightly under her hand. "My father would disown me if I ran away from this."

_You're father's a douche,_ she caught herself just before saying. Turning her head back towards the stars, she disentangled her hand from his and took a deep breath.

"My grandmother used to say, 'people will always expect a lot of you, but you can't live to other people's expectations. At some point you have to stop living for them and start living for yourself.' You can't do this because it's what your father expects of you, and you can't keep comparing yourself to Stefan or William Fell. You're not them and you never will be. You're Damon, and that's all you _need_ to be."

Even in the dense darkness of the night she could feel the way his eyes raked over her face intently. "Your grandmother was a wise woman."

"Yeah, she was. And it's true, you know. If you keep letting people compare you, if you keep comparing yourself, you'll never be satisfied."

That's what he had been doing all along, with his father, Katherine, even Elena. Trying to meet their expectations while comparing everything he did to Stefan and knowing that the other person was doing it as well – comparing him to Stefan and finding him lacking.

"You're good enough as you are, Damon."

"Bonnie," he breathed, and he was suddenly very close, his face hovering just above hers. She struggled to settle the pounding heart in her throat, but he was just too close. His breath fanned lightly across her face and she shivered.

"You can't leave me," he whispered pleadingly. "Promise me. Promise me you will not leave until I return."

"I promise," she managed though she was barely breathing, "But you have to promise to come back, so I can leave."

The minute distance between them seemed to be closing and she couldn't be sure who was responsible for it. Their noses brushed and her heart stopped.

"Then I may never come back, simply to keep you here."

A twig snapped in the distance and they shot apart with such force Bonnie did a complete 360 roll from the effort, landing awkwardly on her bad arm. She groaned painfully into the grass.

"What do you think that was?"

Knowing he wasn't referring to her groan of pain, Bonnie snapped her head up and scanned the surrounding darkness for anything suspicious. Off in the distance, the shadow of _something_ flashed away.

At least she hoped it was something and not someone...

* * *

**I don't normally do an A/N at the end, but I didn't want to give anything away about the chapter. I'm really going to need some support to get through the next chapter or two, guys. My main incentive to write are the Bamon interactions and there aren't going to be any in the next chapter! It kills me just thinking about it! It's important for the story though. I know you guys want me to finish this story and _I_ want to finish this story, so... if you don't hear from me in a couple months start nagging like crazy. lol. I'd really appriciate. Love ya'll!**


	12. A Favour

**AN - First, of course, as always it would seem, sorry for taking so effing long. But more importantly THANK YOU to everyone who left a review or two. I honestly think I might have the most supportive group of readers in the world. You guys are truly incredible and did a brilliant job nagging me into writting. I owe you all. I also want to send a special shout out to Some Strangers keep starring - you guys all need to send much love out to this person because this chapter would not exist without them, or more accurately, you'd still be waiting for it - I totally copped out and used your suggestion. I just didn't have it in me to write a Bamon-less chapter.**

**Also, I have a special request for anyone who's good with graphics. This story needs a picture and I suck at that kind of stuff, so if anyone's willing to make one for me, I'd really appriciate it.**

**Food for Thought: Katherine is dangerous but she isn't reckless. She acts quickly but never hastily. She always has multiple contingencies in place before making any moves. So, with the added weight of the Council watching her I wondered how she might handle the "Bonnie problem" (as someone in a review put it) and this is what I came up with. Hope you like it.**

* * *

Katherine fiddled with a loose strand of hair as she scrutinized her reflection. She looked particularly stunning today. It would be a pity that Damon would not be around to see her, though Stefan's attentions would more than suffice.

And as it stood, there was a chance Damon would not pay her any mind even if he were still here.

She frowned darkly, the image of him hovering over that _serving girl _lingering like a bad taste in her mouth. The girl was practically a _slave_ – what could he possibly see in her? What could he possibly prefer about her?

Katherine's brow wrinkled thoughtfully and she took comfort in knowing that those lines reflected at her now would never be permanent.

It couldn't be the dark skin. It was presently unfashionable and had been for the past few centuries. It could be her eyes... they were rather remarkable, Katherine reluctantly conceded. Her voice was pleasant enough, but nothing to lose one's senses over.

Clearly Damon had spent a great deal of time in the girl's presence, so perhaps she had a winning personality.

Katherine scoffed. She highly doubted the girl, _Bonnie_, had anything of interest to say.

Whatever the reason the fact still remained, something would have to be done about this. Katherine would not be handing over one of her toys to a _serving girl._ She hummed thoughtfully, brainstorming.

The simplest solution, of course, would be to kill the girl. Alas, the Council was already sniffing around her skirts and she was beginning to have to walk a very tight rope concerning the people she killed. She had recently taken to hunting on the roads just outside of Mystic Falls. Her prey was usually traveling merchants; no one that could be missed in this small town. To actually kill Bonnie on the property would be suicide. And as easy as it would be to dump her body any old place after the fact, just the girl's association with this estate could be enough to cast suspicion.

No. Katherine couldn't risk sullying her hands with this particular murder, as satisfying as it would be to drain the girl dry. She'd just have to think of something else.

She heaved a sigh, letting her eyes drift behind her reflection to focus on Emily as she laced Katherine's bodice.

"Emily," she sang suddenly as an idea unfurled with lazy grace in her mind's eye.

"Yes, miss," Emily answered, the perfect picture of demure obedience, her eyes focused solely on the task at hand.

"What do you know of that serving girl? The one who injured her arm... Bonnie, was it?"

"Bonnie?"

Emily's gaze ripped away from her work and caught Katherine's in the mirror. Her brow crumpled in confusion before she looked back down. "I've spoken to her on occasion. She seemed to me sweet tempered... though simple. Why, Miss Katherine?"

Katherine cast her mind around for a plausible excuse. She refused to let anyone know she was feeling romantically threatened by a _servant_ – how appalling; she would never live it down. Quickly she landed on something that would be sure to cause a stir without forcing her to lose face.

Fighting the smirk that threatened to overtake her, she answered carefully, "I have reason to believe that she may be aware of my true nature."

"Oh?" Emily inquired gently.

"She has made several thinly veiled comments to me that have implied a certain knowledge."

"_She's done what?"_

Emily's hands slipped at her laces and pulled far too tightly. It was a good thing Katherine had no real need for breath or she might have fainted from the sudden lack of air.

"_Emily_," she managed to wheeze through the constraints.

"Forgive me, Miss Katherine," Emily apologized as she worked quickly to loosen the laces. "I simply cannot conceive of anyone being so foolishly brazen."

"It's quite alright," Katherine assured once she had enough breath to speak with. "I, myself, was rather struck by it."

"What will you do?"

"Nothing." Spinning out of Emily's grasp she fixed her handmaiden with a benevolent smile. "But if _you_ were to watch this girl and to find anything untoward... well, I worry for her, you see. She seems rather ungainly. Some other misfortune may befall her if she does not take greater care."

Emily bowed her head, her expression unreadable, "Of course, Miss Katherine."

* * *

"Do you know why Miss Katherine would ask me to watch you?"

Bonnie froze midway through flipping a page in Emily's Grimoire. "Uh..."

This felt like a trick question.

Bonnie could feel the weight of Emily's gaze on the back of her neck. Emily was perched on the edge of her bed looking every bit like a bird of prey right before it swept in for the kill.

Bonnie knew exactly why Katherine wanted her watched (and at least now she had a definite answer as to what that shadow in the woods had been), but how to answer Emily's heavy-handed question without incriminating herself?

"_She said that?_" Bonnie exclaimed, hoping her slightly delayed reaction could be construed as alarm.

"Indeed," Emily replied, her hawk-eyed gaze narrowing and lips turning down. "What reason would Miss Katherine have to ask that of me? She seems personally affronted by you."

Guilt and panic pinched painfully at Bonnie's heart and she forced herself to take a deep breath. She had no way of knowing what Emily knew. Now was not the time to freak out and tell her everything.

Emily sprung to her feet like a cobra striking. "How could you be so reckless, Bonnie? You have endangered not only your future but your very existence."

_Oh god, she knew._

"It was an accident!" Bonnie began hastily, "I swear I didn't mean for this to happen."

"Did you honestly believe you could get away with such a thing?"

Bonnie pulled absently on the rough cotton of her sling and offered a small shrug. "Not at first, but after a while... I stopped thinking about it. One thing just kind of lead to another and the next thing I knew it was happening all the time."

Emily went very still.

"How long has this transpired?"

Bonnie hesitated. She was getting the distinct impression that now was not the best time for honesty. "Not long," she hedged.

Bonnie's name rose like a tired sigh from somewhere deep inside Emily as the young woman sank back onto her bed. She suddenly seemed much older with her face buried behind her hands and shoulders hunched the way they were.

Bonnie couldn't fight the guilt that swelled in her chest. She had been nothing but work and worry for her ancestor since her arrival and it was starting to make Bonnie feel like a tool. Though she had always been aware of the danger she was putting herself into running around with Damon, she had never truly given thought to the trouble she could be causing Emily. That was pretty low of her.

"Emily, I'm so sorry. I never thought about how you fit into this. I wasn't thinking at all really. I was just... having fun."

"Fun?" Emily's head snapped up. "What precisely did you say to her?"

"What?"

"These thinly veiled comments that proved such an amusement to you."

Okay, now Bonnie was really lost. "_What?_"

Emily's gaze sharpened as she studied her intently. "Miss Katherine claimed you made thinly veiled remarks about her true nature. Did you not?"

Bonnie could feel her jaw slacken in disbelief.

That was so fucking close.

Emily raised an inquisitive brow as she pressed, "What reason were you apologizing for, if not that?"

Bonnie shook her head emphatically and then tried desperately to tone it down ten notches to something normal. "No, it was exactly that reason that you just mentioned. That was exactly it."

Emily looked unconvinced, but continued her previous inquisition, "What did you say to her?"

Bonnie racked her brain for anything she might have said. She _had_ been making thinly veiled remarks, at least in her head.

She tried to remember what she could have said to set Katherine off.

Nothing came to mind. She'd been extra careful to keep her opinions on Katherine to herself. The only person she had ever said anything to was Damon. This was definitely a ploy on Katherine's part, but it worked in Bonnie's favour.

She hesitated, casting for something that sounded plausible. "I don't really remember what I said exactly. I may have implied that she was two-faced at some point."

"If that be the case, you must take further care in the coming weeks. Do nothing that would cast suspicion upon you. Katherine may have charged me with being your keeper, but she will undoubtedly be watching you closely herself. I can cast her suspicions off of you for a short time, but if she is serious in wanting to be rid of you, depend upon it, she will find a way."

"I sincerely doubt I'll find myself in any compromising positions in the near future," Bonnie reassured earnestly.

What with Damon's departure she highly doubted she'd be doing much of anything in the coming months. Would she even be here for that much longer? She and Emily had made a bit of progress with the spell – no major breakthroughs, but it finally felt like they were getting somewhere which was... nice, she supposed. Or it would have been two months ago, but now... She didn't want to leave until Damon got back and who _knew_ when that would be.

He might never come back.

Her stomach rolled unpleasantly and she pushed the thought aside.

He would come back. She knew he would. All this had happened already and he had clearly made it through the war unscathed. 21st century Damon was in perfect form; not a blemish on the bastard. She had nothing to worry about.

_But things are different now,_ a doubt nagged incessantly in her ear. _You talked to him and changed everything. He's not so safe anymore..._

"Are you unwell, Bonnie?"

Bonnie jerked up from where she had slumped against the hard wood of the desk and glanced from under her curls at Emily's concerned face.

"Just a little tired."

"You should rest. We will see one another on the morrow."

Bonnie nodded, pushing herself away from the desk and making her slow way into the hall. Once there she headed for her room, putting one foot absently in front of the other as she allowed her mind to drift to the last time she had seen Damon.

* * *

_**Bonnie crushed the small square of cloth between her fingers and the folds of her scratchy cotton dress. Keeping a steady pace, she moved down the hallway, enjoying the waking sounds of the household as people began to go about their business. It was early enough still that the servants shuffled about with a certain lethargy, and yet late enough that the Salvatores and guest were bound to be out of bed.**_

_**With every room Bonnie came too, she checked inside. She had already been all over the grounds and most of the west wing, with the exception of Giuseppe's study which she had avoided like the plague, and Damon was nowhere to be found.**_

_**There was a chance he was still in his room, but there was no way she was going anywhere upstairs without a legitimate excuse.**_

_**Peeking into the library she came to a halt, her heart picking up loudly in her chest. Damon stood with his back to her, a finger skimming across the spines of a haphazard stack of books. She stood watching him for what felt like a small lifetime. Logically, she knew she should stop standing there like a creeper, but for the life of her she couldn't get her knees to unlock.**_

**This is ridiculous, Bonnie, **_**she mentally chastened.**_** It's the same old Damon as always. Nothing's weird, nothing's changed. So what you almost kissed? SO WHAT? Nothing awkward about that... Just act **_normal_. **And don't, under any circumstances, think about it.**

_**Shaking herself off, she quickly scanned down the hall both ways and stepped into the room.**_

"_**Hey," she called softly.**_

_**Damon spun, his eyes widening slightly upon seeing her and cheeks tinting a lovely rose. "Bonnie."**_

_**Heart hammering in her chest, she walked further into the room to stand before him. "You leave today."**_

"_**I do." He gave a jerky nod. He looked like a tightly wound coil ready to spring. She could see the tension in the line of his shoulders and around his eyes.**_

"_**I'm glad I caught you. For a while I thought you may have already left," she admitted in a half whisper, as if hoping he might not actually hear her.**_

_**The corner of his lips pulled up. "You were searching for me?"**_

_**Her stomach flipped and she paled. A denial was ready to trip off her tongue when she paused. There was no point denying it; she had just **_**admitted**_** to looking for him so, tilting her chin, she replied defensively, "I had something to give you."**_

"_**Oh?" He lifted an inquiring brow.**_

_**Suddenly self-conscious, she hesitated. Moving her gaze to rest on the disheveled bookshelf just beyond his shoulder, and noting briefly that she'd probably have to clean that later, she gathered her courage in a deep breath and slowly lifted the small cloth she was gripping in her hand out for him to take.**_

"_**A handkerchief?"**_

"_**A favour," she explained, desperately trying to ignore the heat rising in her cheeks. "I read somewhere that it was customary for people to give favours for good luck."**_

_**That and she had seen it once on Merlin. Not that she wanted anything like what happened between Arthur and Gwen to happen now, but it seemed like a good omen. Suddenly feeling incredibly stupid, she shook her head in embarrassment.**_

"_**This is ridiculous. I don't know what I was thinking."**_

_**She pulled her arm back only to have it tugged forward by the square of fabric in her hand. Damon held firmly to the other side. His face was sombre but a light sparked in his eyes that hadn't been there before.**_

"_**You cannot reclaim a favour once you have offered it, Bonnie – it's unbecoming. Besides, **_**I want it.**_**"**_

_**She flushed deeper and her stomach refused to settle and she couldn't look him in the eye and – **_

**God, Bonnie, get a grip! It's just a fucking handkerchief.**

_**With a herculean effort she released the handkerchief, but she couldn't resist adding, "It's not for you to keep, you know. You're meant to return it."**_

"_**Much like you returned my hat," he teased.**_

_**Her attention snapped back to him and she noticed the all too familiar wicked gleam had returned to his eyes. **_

"_**I won that hat fair and square," she defended.**_

"_**That is yet to be determined."**_

"_**You're just a sore loser. The whole purpose of a favour is for you to give it back to me, Damon."**_

"_**Well then I shall."**_

"_**You'd better." She glared half-heartedly for good measure.**_

"_**Is there some significance to this?" he asked, lifting it towards the window to inspect it closer. She watched the light as it transformed the blue of his eyes to crystal. She was finding it hard to look away. "It appears to be new," he determined with the barest hint of suspicion colouring his tone.**_

"_**It's not," she countered quickly. "It's old, old, old – ancient even. Been in the family for years."**_

"_**An heirloom?"**_

_**She hummed an affirmative and immediately regretted it. Somehow she had convinced herself that it would seem like less of a big deal if she were giving him something she had had for ages instead of admitting that she had literally bought the handkerchief for this purpose alone.**_

_**From the way he was looking at her right now – his focus warm and intent as he studied her, the corners of his lips snaking up in the softest smile she'd ever seen, a smile that was doing very weird things to her respiratory system – she had been wrong.**_

_**He leaned forward unexpectedly. Her head swam and she struggled to concentrate as he leveled their gazes and pledged solemnly, "Upon my honour, I will take the utmost care of it."**_

_**She needed to wipe that look off his face – that smile. It was making her think about his lips, and how she wondered what they might feel like, and how she almost found out how they felt a few nights ago.**_

_**Giving a gusty sigh to breathe out the butterflies, she admitted bluntly, "I lied. It's new. I bought it yesterday."**_

_**His smile widened and she almost leaned forward to close what little space remained between them. "I know," he confessed on a whisper. "No heirloom could appear so pristine. Especially one as old as you claimed this one to be."**_

_**She watched as his eyes drifted down to her lips and the smile faded from his face as he noticed just how close they were standing together. A slow blush crept across his cheeks and suddenly he was straightening up and taking a giant step away from her. The sudden rush of air into her lungs made her feel a little lightheaded and she focused on that rather than the small wave of disappointment washing over her. Damon cleared his throat, tucking her favour into his pocket before returning his attention to her.**_

_**Reaching blindly towards the pile of books beside him, he picked the one resting on top and held it out to her. When he spoke again his voice was rough, "I have something for you as well."**_

_**She tentatively grabbed the book from him, making sure to keep her fingers from brushing against his. The soft worn velvet binding felt incredible along the palm of her hand as she flipped it carefully open to read the title, "Villette?"**_

"_**It is another by Charlotte Bronte. I thought since you enjoyed the last so well you might be partial to this... and at the least you will have something to keep you company till I return."**_

_**The warmth in his gaze was enough to set her blood on fire and she hoped desperately he couldn't see the way it made her shiver. So she did what she did best; she deflected, "Or I could just talk to Stefan."**_

_**The corners of his eyes crinkled in joking irritation. "I rather you read the book."**_

_**He stilled then, his gaze dropping to the floor and his brow furrowed before he shifted uneasily in place.**_

_**She knew Damon well enough to know when he wanted to say something but didn't know how to go about it, so watching him curiously she pushed, "What is it?"**_

_**Keeping his gaze averted, he hedged slowly, "I... I had hoped that perhaps... you might allow me the privilege of..." He hesitated, lifting his blue orbs to hers and took a large breath before finishing, "corresponding with you whilst I'm away."**_

_**Bonnie felt as if she were on a roller coaster, but just as she made it to the top of the first hill the ride broke down and she was forced to wait for maintenance to come get her off.**_

"_**Corresponding?" she echoed incomprehensively.**_

"_**If I could but write to you a little, it might hasten the months passing until I am able to see you again."**_

_**Oh god, this man was going to be the death of her.**_

_**Very aware of her burning cheeks, she bowed her head, shrugging, "That's fine. I... might even write you back or something... maybe."**_

"_**I am glad for it... And so it is settled."**_

* * *

Coming back to herself, Bonnie realized she had passed her room by several doors and circled back. Entering the small, disheveled space she wasted no time before flopping down onto her bed to stare listlessly at the ceiling.

Damon had only been gone a couple of days. She needed to get a handle on herself. Everything needed to just _stop_. She could feel her emotions spiralling out of her control and heading straight towards the No Fly Zone. She could _not_ let that happen!

She had been on this road a thousand times before: first with Patrick, the cute boy in kindergarten who used to steal all her cookies out of her lunch box; then with Tyler before he became a massive jerk; then with Sheldon who used to help her with her math homework, but he was gay, though neither of them knew it at the time; then there was Matt right before he started dating Elena...

Bonnie sighed and felt her body sink further into the lumpy mattress.

The absolute last thing she needed to be doing was developing a crush on Damon Salvatore of all people. The guy who attempted to rip her throat out; the guy who constantly made snide comments about her abilities as a witch, but was also constantly seeking her magical assistance – the hypocrite; the guy who could not take no for an answer; who cajoled her into riding his horse; who acted like a complete man-child when he got sick, and who had told her once that she looked quite well in his hat –

Bonnie groaned against the swooping in her stomach and refocused.

Not to mention the fact that he had daddy issues... and brother issues... and mother issues... _and_ girlfriend issues. God, he had every issue in the book! Plus the whole space time continuum and, of course, she couldn't forget the infamous love triangle involving her best friend. Or was it a love square because of Katherine?

_It's a mess, is what it is, and I will not be a part of it_, Bonnie determined as she distractedly watched the room darken then lighten again as the sun darted in and out from behind the clouds. _What I need to do is nip this in the bud while Damon's not around to bug me and focus on what's really important: getting home._

Decided, Bonnie shifted on the bed until she was as comfortable as the mattress could allow and tried to relax. A worry nagged at her, but she brushed it firmly aside.

Damon would be fine, because Damon simply _refused_ _to die_. There were a countless number of people who had it out for Damon in the 21st century and yet he was still strutting around like he owned the very earth itself. Besides, she had put a protection spell on the handkerchief and there wasn't much else she could do for him from so far away.

She had more pressing matters to focus on anyways. Katherine for one.

Bonnie let out a gusty sigh and buried her head against her pillow wishing she could just stake the bitch and be done with it. Liking the idea, she decided to run it by Emily just to make sure that wasn't actually a viable option.


	13. Circa 1864

**I disclaim everything.**

**FINALLY! I'm finally done this Godforsaken chapter! GAH! Remind me never to write a chapter without Damon in it again. It nearly killed me.**

**I have to send a special shout out to Izzie123, 'cause she thought I wouldn't read her review - crazy girl! I read each and every review I receive because every single one is important to me. It's you guys that help me to write this story. You inspire me, get me threw my writer's blocks, keep me wanting to do better. Your continued support (even with my stupid large breaks between chapters) has been more than anyone can ask for. I cannot thank you guys enough. I have the best readers in the world!**

**Just to let you know, there is a letter at the end of this chapter with bits of it in brackets. Those bits orginally had a single line stroked throw them to give the effect that the writer had crossed those lines out, but Fanfiction does have that option so I had to improvise. Hopefully it's not confusing when you read it.**

**FFT - Katherine may be distracted in this chapter, but don't worry, she's like an elephant - she never forgets.**

* * *

A week later Bonnie sat within the small servant's dining area. It was fairly makeshift and jumbled. None of the tables looked quite like they belonged or like they could even hold very much weight. Some looked to be on their last leg, metaphorically speaking, as if someone had been in the process of throwing them out before changing their mind and putting them here instead. The benches weren't much better off. They were all different sizes and some of them wobbled precariously.

Not to mention many of both the tables and benches were splintered and stained darkly with bits of old food, and Bonnie was mindful not to touch any area that looked like it could potentially come away with her. Neither Tide nor Resolve were available in 1864 and hand washing her clothes was a pain enough as it was.

The room was of course segregated and, though the tables on the other end of the small space looked equally as disarrayed and mismatched, she couldn't help but notice they seemed a little sturdier... and less splintered.

Bonnie drew her attention back down to her meal of plain grits and groaned internally. She didn't know how much longer she could do this. Not that she didn't like grits; they were a staple of the south – it was like ingrained in her DNA to like them, but she didn't care for them plain... and these were plainer than plain. It was like they didn't put enough salt or butter or something and it just made them: blah.

What she wouldn't give for a bowl of spicy shrimp on tomato grits from The Grille. Or a pulled-pork burger with chipotle sauce, fried onions and curly fries... or a Chicken Zinger Wrap with that ranch dressing she loved so much.

Bonnie quickly swiped at the drool trying to escape the corner of her mouth and glared down at her plate of grits. Yeah, this was just not happening today.

As soon as she got back to her own time, the first stop she was making was The effing Grille. Fact.

The bench wobbled briefly before settling as Gladys sat beside her. Gladys grabbed her free hand and brought it under the table before pressing something cold into her palm and closing Bonnie's fingers around it.

Leaning in close, Gladys whispered, "Don't let dem ones see ya." She titled her head slightly to indicate the other side of the room.

Bonnie nodded her understanding and looked down at the thinly sliced mutton cutlets she now held. Moving discretely, she placed them in her lap and broke them into tiny pieces then popped one in her mouth and hummed.

The roasted, lightly salted meat was delicious – especially when compared to plain grits.

"I love you, Gladys," Bonnie stated once she had swallowed her mouthful.

"Too right ya do," Gladys smiled back, showing off both the slight gap between her front teeth and her dimples.

Bonnie ate the rest of her mutton quickly, talking to Gladys about everything and nothing, and listening as the woman regaled her with exploits from the kitchens.

Since Bonnie and Emily made it a point to avoid one another in public as much as possible, Bonnie had originally eaten all her meals by herself.

Then one day, after several sporadic meetings around the grounds and occasionally in the kitchens, Gladys had plopped down beside Bonnie and started eating her meal. Now they ate every meal together, no questions. Bonnie would be lying if she said she wasn't grateful for the company. Not only was Gladys funny, she was insightful and almost always in a good mood – in some ways she reminded Bonnie of Caroline with her positivity and that was always welcome, though it made her homesick.

Plus, sometimes Gladys snuck her a small portion of food that was being made for the household meal and that was pretty awesome.

Beside her, Gladys shivered unexpectedly and brought herself closer to the table, hunching her shoulders to make herself smaller.

Bonnie frowned. "What's wrong?"

Not turning her head, Gladys whispered from the side of her mouth, "Thomas."

Keeping her actions casual, Bonnie glanced slowly across the room until she spotted the man in question in all his pallid glory. He was sneering fiercely in their direction, but what sent the chill running down her spine was the contemplation in his eyes. She really hoped she never found out what it was that he might be thinking.

* * *

Bonnie had made it a habit, since Damon had been away, to wander over to the stables and visit Lenore after her work was done for the day.

Standing there on the hay strewn dirt floor, resting against one of the tall wooden posts, Bonnie watched Lenore shift about in her stall. The tall, majestic mare seemed restless as she leveled her long-lashed doe eyes accusingly at Bonnie.

Bonnie narrowed her own eyes in response. "I don't know why you're looking at me like that. I didn't send him away. You'd think you'd be grateful for the company."

Lenore snorted and turned her head to face away.

"Fine," she whispered. "I'll make it a point not to visit you tomorrow."

Lenore whinnied and paced in one spot. Bonnie pretended not to be offended.

Lenore had been in a mood ever since Damon had left and every visit Bonnie had paid the mare had ended in much the same way. Animals were smarter than most people gave them credit for and Bonnie wouldn't be surprised if Lenore could sense that Damon was no longer on the estate and somehow attributed this absence to Bonnie. Possibly because the last person Lenore had seen Damon with _was_ Bonnie...

But maybe that was giving a little _too_ much credit to the horse.

Then again, it would explain the cold shoulder she was receiving.

Bonnie made a show of polishing the apple she had been hiding in the folds of her skirt against her chest. "I guess you don't want this apple I got for you then. I guess I'll just have to eat it myself."

Lenore remained unimpressed.

"It took a lot of effort to get this apple... _a lot_ of effort. I'm really going to enjoy eating it," Bonnie teased before holding it out in front of her. "Unless... you wanted it?"

Lenore's focus shifted to the apple and she stilled. Bonnie, taking that as a good sign, inched her way forward. Coming to a stop right before her gate, she waited for the mare to make her move. Lenore watched her with large brown eyes and brought her snout closer. She paused a moment, as if weighing her options, and then snorted harshly before turning in her stall to face the opposite direction.

"Well that was rude," Bonnie grumbled, looking down at the ruined apple. "Now I can't even eat this. I'm definitely not coming by tomorrow."

Who was she kidding? She'd probably end up back here anyways.

She had found the days had grown longer without Damon. Probably because he demanded so much of her attention so regularly that now that he wasn't here she had nothing to occupy herself with.

Frowning, she passed off the apple to a less picky horse and wiped her hand on her dress.

"Girl?"

She turned and spotted Stefan standing just outside the stable doors.

Had he forgotten her name? Or was there someone there with him?

"Yes?" she answered cautiously.

"Are you alone?"

She looked around herself before nodding. There had been two people with her earlier but they had taken out some horses for exercise.

"Good," he said stepping into the stables, keeping his voice low, "I have something for you, Bonnie."

"What is it?" she asked, making sure to match his volume and moving closer.

He held out a thinly folded parchment and she frowned. Taking the grainy paper in her hand she studied it closer. Her name and date were on the front in the most elegant script she had ever seen and it took her a moment to realize what she was really holding.

"Is this...?"

"A letter from my brother, yes. It was enclosed with my own. He asked that I should play messenger." He gave her a long, steady look as if searching for something. Whether or not he found it, she wasn't sure, but he continued solemnly, "Rest assured, he explained the situation to me."

Uh, what situation?

Not knowing how to respond, but feeling she had to if the way he was still examining her was any indication, she thanked him.

He bowed his head minutely, his focus finally dropping away and onto the hay strewn floor at her feet. "Find me when you are ready with your reply."

"I will."

He turned to leave, his shoulders more stooped than she was used to seeing and a question nagged at her mind until it tumbled out of her lips.

"How are you?"

He froze halfway out the stable doors and spun back, surprise written all over his face."I..." Slowly his features evened out and he shook his head, a small, sad smile tugging at his lips. "I am well enough. I... pray for his safe return."

"I do too," she nodded.

"And you?" he asked suddenly, "How are you fairing?"

"It's too quiet now that he's gone," she answered, then bit her lip, mentally scolding herself.

That made it sound like she was simply bored without him. She had been referring to his energy. Damon's very presence was loud even when he was still and silent, like he was so full of life that you could hear it humming in the air around him.

But Stefan surprised her, his small smile warming as he nodded his understanding. "Aptly put."

He glanced back up toward the manor briefly before looking at her again, "I should best be on my way, but do come and find me, Bonnie."

"I will," she promised for the second time.

Shooting her one last small smile, Stefan left the stables and made his way back to the manor.

Feeling the grainy texture of the paper against the pads of her fingers, she broke out into a grin and had to fight the urge to run back to her room so she could read her letter.

* * *

_Dear Bonnie,_

_I must confess, as I sat to write this, it came to my attention that I have been most negligent with you. For how am I to call myself your friend when I have no recollection of your family name, or indeed, of you ever mentioning it to me? This must be remedied post haste._

_I have taken the liberty of obtaining my brother's services for the purpose of our correspondence. Rest assured your good reputation has been secured. I took great pains in explaining that no vows had been exchanged between us; that I had simply exhorted the promise of words of comfort from a dear friend at a trying time._

_I can scarcely believe it has been a fortnight since my departure; it feels longer and shorter at once. I pray this letter finds you in good health._

_We have been a few nights now at the camp that is to be my home until they send me where it is they see fit to send me. It is here that I am to train and become a worthy solider. I have received my meager equipment and lowly ranking._

_It occurs to me now that, next we meet, you must call me Private. I should like that._

_The other men are of an amiable sort, but they are full of valour and dreams of glory and little else. I long for a proper conversation. I miss our talks. There are times when I imagine you here with me; I imagine what I might say and how you might reply in turn. But these times are short and fruitless, for my imaginings could never compare to the reality of you. You so often surprise me, Bonnie._

_Have you begun Villette? I wonder what you shall make of it. I am eager to hear from you. Anything you should wish to say, I would wish to hear. You must regale me with your many adventures in great detail._

_Your friend,_

_DS_

* * *

_Dear Damon,_

_Stefan explained to me already about him playing messenger. I have to admit that was rather clever of you to ask him to do that for us._

_I also have a confession. I would have no idea how to send you letters if you hadn't developed a system. Not that I'm inept, but I've never had to send a letter before and your postal system is very different from the one in Canada._

_Everyone here is doing well; everyone's healthy. I'm doing well too. My arm is almost fully healed and I should have use of it again in another week or so. Oh, the joy! I can't wait to get this sling off._

_How are you doing? Are you well? I know the men you're with are not the best conversationalists, but you should try to make a few friends. It would be nice to know there was someone out there with you who was looking out for your well being._

_I'm halfway through Villette. I find I have much more time to read when no one is bothering me. I like it so far, though not as much as Jane Eyre. I find the protagonist too passive at times, but the side characters are rather interesting._

_I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you when it comes to my adventures. No adventures on this end, though I have taken to visiting Lenore daily. She does not like me. __At all__. I also suspect that she misses you a great deal._

_As do your brother and I. I hope to hear from you again soon._

_Sincerely,_

_Bonnie B._

* * *

Stefan proved to be much better at the whole sneaking around thing than Damon. She never had to find him. He had the habit of finding her just after she finished her work for the day, right before the evening meal whilst Katherine was getting dressed – the timing could not be more perfect.

She looked forward to these meetings, not just for the contact from Damon but also because she was starting to get to know Stefan a little better.

With each passing of a letter they managed to share a brief moment of conversation. She had always known Stefan was a gentleman but all his charm and good nature couldn't mask the dry humour that lingered underneath. It felt like a small triumph every time she got him to lighten up enough to use it. In what felt like no time at all they fell into an easy friendship.

Though their first real conversation after Damon's departure had been anything but comfortable.

* * *

"_**Both you and Damon are making a pretty big deal over this letter thing."**_

"_**Pardon?" Stefan's brow furrowed as he took the letter she was holding out for him.**_

"_**It's just that, you've both made it a point to reassure me that my reputation is intact. Was it ever in jeopardy?" she questioned laughingly.**_

_**Stefan froze, letter halfway tucked inside his pocket, and regarded at her with wide eyes. "Do you mean to say that... you were unaware –"**_

"_**Unaware of what?"**_

"_**The necessary arrangements for a correspondence to transpire..." he trailed off uneasily, his gaze boring into her intently, searching for understanding.**_

_**Bonnie felt her features crumple in confusion. It felt like he was speaking in another language. There was definitely something she was missing here. "I really don't know what you're talking about."**_

"_**Is it not customary within your own –" he broke off suddenly and frowned. "Forgive me. No, I shall not ask that of you."**_

"_**Ask what of me?"**_

_**Bonnie's stomach was beginning to twist. What had Damon gotten her into now?**_

_**Stefan's focus dropped to the floor, no longer able to meet her gaze, and he began solemnly, "It is clear to me that you possess no knowledge of this, though how that can be I cannot begin to fathom –"**_

"_**Knowledge of what?" And when she got no immediate response, she pressed, "Knowledge of what?"**_

_**He grimaced before starting, "It is expected that if a man and a woman of no relation correspond they have come to... an **_**understanding.**_**"**_

_**He said the word understanding like he was inferring something and like she should know exactly what it was without him having to say.**_

_**Frustrated, she barely managed to stop herself from rolling her eyes. "Could you please stop dancing around the issue and just tell me what you mean?"**_

_**Alarm streaked across Stefan's face and Bonnie felt her pulse spike in panic, realizing that she couldn't talk to him the same way she talked to Damon. With Damon she didn't have to think about these things and she had fallen into complacency, but Stefan was different. Even though he was a good guy, and clearly not a racist bigot, she knew better than to assume she could talk to him any way she wanted to. Things were more complicated than that and she had to remember that this was 1864.**_

_**She made to apologize, but Stefan cut her off, his whole body suddenly relaxing and lips quirking upward in amusement. "I mean an engagement of marriage."**_

"_**Oh."**_

_**There was a pause between hearing what he was saying and the actual comprehension of it, but when it finally dawned on Bonnie she tensed and responded as if on auto-pilot, "We're just friends."**_

"_**Yes. So I have been made aware, on several occasions, by you," Stefan assured with a nod of his head while the quirk of his lips expanded into a full smile.**_

_**Had he?**_

_**And she realized she really had made it a point to say that, almost every time she talked with Stefan. In the back of her mind a tiny voice, that sounded suspiciously like Damon, chimed, **_**The lady doth protest too much, methinks.**

**Shut up, Damon!**_** Her own inner voice yelled back and she felt herself flush.**_

_**Concentrating on something other than her embarrassment and traitorous thoughts, she decided to bring the conversation back to the matter at hand.**_

"_**I've never heard of something like this before. Where I come from anyone can send a letter to anyone without it meaning anything. No engagements necessary."**_

"_**Ah," Stefan exclaimed and then, as if noticing her discomfort, he continued, "But, come, let us not speak of this... ever, ever again."**_

_**Nodding her head stiffly, she whispered, "Agreed."**_

* * *

Bonnie listened idly to Emily's quill as it scratched its way across a piece of parchment. They were meant to be brainstorming. The shadow theory had opened up a plethora of possible ways to approach the spell and they were beginning to narrow down the ingredients that might be needed. Bonnie remembered to stress the fact that the ingredients had been basic; your average kitchen variety herbs.

When she had done the spell, she had been so emotionally all over the place that she hadn't paid any attention to what she was doing, not like she usually did. She hadn't bothered to _learn_ the spell, she had simply performed it. It was the first and last time she would be doing something so reckless, that was for sure.

Bonnie rested her head against the cool wood of Emily's window frame and watched the different people milling about outside on the extensive grounds.

"Aloe Vera, perchance?" Emily prompted.

"No, not common enough..." Bonnie sighed before offering jokingly, "Maybe I used thyme?"

"Unlikely," Emily smirked, but wrote it down anyways. "Basil?"

Something tugged at Bonnie's memory and she felt her heart sink in her chest.

"Yeah," she whispered, pushing herself closer to the window. "That sounds like it could be right. Basil or Bay Leaf, maybe?"

Emily dipped her quill in her little pot of ink and scratched away.

Out of the corner of her eye, Bonnie caught sight of Katherine's oversized skirts.

Emily had been quick to veto the whole staking Katherine idea, not that that really surprised her, but hey, a girl could dream.

Turning her head so she could get a better look she noticed Stefan was with her. Not such an uncommon sight. Since Damon had been away the two could often be found in one another's company. But there had been a marked difference in the vampire's behaviour recently that disturbed Bonnie.

Katherine was less boisterous, less wildly flirtatious than she had been in the past few months. Bonnie had spotted her and Stefan together on more than one occasion with their heads bent together, bodies inclined, deep in what looked to be serious conversation. And these instances were becoming more frequent – like right now for instance.

The two were walking aimlessly, their bodies close but not touching. It was as if they had created their own world where they were the only people who existed. Katherine looked thoughtful and reserved, but she still carried a lightness to her.

And Stefan...

Even from this distance Bonnie could see the devotion on his face as his gaze lingered on Katherine for longer than necessary.

He loved her.

Guilt tore at Bonnie's chest as she pressed her face against the cool glass and shut her eyes.

Maybe if she had reached out to Stefan earlier... Maybe if she had tried with him the way she had tried with Damon this wouldn't be happening now?

But her attempt to warn Damon away from Katherine had ended horribly and she couldn't imagine it ending any better with Stefan. In fact, it probably would have been worse.

Not to mention that she had no way of knowing if her meddling had worked. She had no idea how Damon felt about Katherine now. For all she knew he could still be completely devoted to her. The thought made her want to punch something, hard... preferably Katherine's face.

Either way there was nothing she could do now.

The one good thing about the situation was that Katherine seemed to be as taken with Stefan as he was with her. She was as close to distracted as the vampire got. If Bonnie didn't know better she would think she was actually falling in love with him.

And Bonnie, despite how the guilt ate away at her, was using Katherine's distracted state to her benefit.

She was keeping as much distance between herself and the she-vamp as humanly possibly, which was fairly easy on such a large piece of property. She made it a point to never share the same breathing space as the woman and maybe it was her imagination, but Katherine seemed to be losing interest. Though there had been a few times when Bonnie felt like she was being watched, those were less and less now.

So with Emily playing the double-agent, 'reporting' back to Katherine every so often and telling her how unthreatening and boring Bonnie was, and with Stefan occupying all of the vamp's free time, Bonnie had managed to successfully slink back into the metaphorical shadows.

* * *

_Dear Bonnie,_

_I now see that it is not I who has been remiss in our friendship, but you. You who will not tell me your family name; for what reason, I know not. And yet you tease me most cruelly with a letter B. I will weed it out of you in due time, you may depend upon it. Or mayhap we should make a game of it? Shall I guess it from you, Bonnie? Or should I call you, Miss Bradbury?_

* * *

_Dear Damon,_

_A B is all you'll get until you come home, but you can guess if you like. I may even tell you if you get it right. And for your information, it's not Bradbury, but good try._

* * *

Bonnie couldn't help but be fascinated by downtown Mystic Falls circa 1864. It was culture shock every time she went there. Downtown consisted of little more than Main Street, but on that tiny stretch of road there was so much to see.

Horse drawn buggies, street merchants, shop windows and the bustle of people. There was even a boy selling newspapers on a street corner. Unfortunately he wasn't yelling 'Extra! Extra!' which would have made Bonnie's life, but he _was_ yelling 'Hear ye! Hear ye!' which was the next best thing.

Plus it blew her mind seeing shops open that she herself had visited in the 21st century, like Choppy's Ice Cream Shoppe. She remembered going there with Caroline and Elena all the time when they were younger.

Bonnie and Caroline would huff indecisively for a while before settling on the same flavours they always did: Maple Walnut and Cookies n' Cream respectively. But Elena would always go for something new. She just couldn't choose which flavour she liked best so she went back and forth between them all.

Walking past the shop now, Bonnie took a peak in. It looked about the same, though smaller.

"Come along, Bonnie," Emily called a few feet away.

Stepping away from the store front Bonnie made her way over, stretching her newly sling-less left arm as she did. It was incredibly stiff after having been bent for the better part of three months. It was also hella weak; she couldn't really do anything with it yet, but she was trying to use it and get it back to normal.

"Cinnamon is costly but the apothecary should have some readily available," Emily continued once Bonnie caught up.

Bonnie nodded absently, letting her focus wander past Emily and further down the street.

They had narrowed down the ingredients for the spell. It had been simple once Emily had figured out exactly how she wanted to manipulate time and from there she deduced what components combined would most likely aid the desired result. Emily claimed that knowing the ingredients needed would make creating the actual spell, dead Latin and all, much easier.

_Joy_, Bonnie thought darkly before irritation swelled in her chest. She shouldn't be sullen and ungrateful when Emily had gone out of her way to do this for her. And beside she didn't belong here! She belonged in her own time with her own friends.

But lately, every time she thought about the future she caught herself wondering if she'd be going back to one without Damon in it. The thought gripped her heart like a vice and refused to let go no matter how she tried to shake it off.

Exhaling sharply, Bonnie forced herself back into the moment. Taking a look around, she spotted something across the street that caused the corners of her mouth to turn up.

"_Emily_," she sang, poking her ancestor gently in the side for good measure, "Isn't that No One of Importance over there?"

Emily shot her a curious look. "Excuse me?"

Bonnie nodded her head in the appropriate direction. When Emily recognized the man standing across the road her eyes widened to twice their natural size and she hurried further down the street.

Laughing, Bonnie ran to cut her off. "Not so fast. Don't you want to say hello?"

She shook her head emphatically. "No, I don't believe that would be prudent."

"Why not?" Bonnie exclaimed.

Emily leveled her with a pointed stare.

"What? Because of me?"

Emily's stare never wavered.

Well that was ridiculous. Bonnie rolled her eyes and protested, "I'm a big girl. I can occupy myself if you want a few minutes to talk to him."

Emily hesitated, her gaze flickering to the man in question before she frowned and shock her head again. "I couldn't."

Okay. It was time to bring out the big guns.

"Emily. If you don't talk to him, I may never be born. Do you want to jeopardize my existence?"

Taking her meaning right away, Emily reddened dramatically, "Good heavens, no."

"Then?" Bonnie pressed, then went in for the kill, "For the sake of all your descendents, you need to go talk to that man."

Emily froze, uncertain. "Whatever would I say?"

"Hello is usually a good start."

"Hello," she echoed once, nodding and then again, a look of steel entering her eyes. Straightening her posture she turned and marched across Main Street.

_I totally just set up my great-great-great-great grandparents,_ Bonnie thought watching Emily as she tapped No One of Importance on the shoulder. She had to admit, she was feeling oddly pleased with herself. How many other people could say that?

Sure it was super weird, and she'd be lying if she said the idea wasn't freaking her out – a lot – but it was also pretty fucking cool.

* * *

_Dearest Bonnie,_

_I am to be sent to Cold Harbor, with little more than three weeks of training to aid me. We march on the morrow. It is said that the south may yet prevail, but I have my reservations. If we are indeed triumphing then why does General Lee not march forward? Why, instead, do the armies make their way closer to Richmond?_

_I fear this may be the last I write to you. (_I fear I may never_)_

_I do not confide in you in hopes of causing you alarm. That is my very last wish. I feel I may speak candidly with you and not be judged harshly for it. For my brother, I must be brave. He must be left unaware of the extent of my fears, and you must not reveal it to him, Bonnie. I do not wish to tarnish his regard for me, to paint it with my frailties._

_With you I feel I may be frank; and so I must, in all things._

_(_I have grown_)__ You have shown me, Bonnie, the kindest of friendship (_but I find that I am no longer_)__ and I will cherish our time together always. This is not a farewell, for I imagine you would be quite cross with me if I were to attempt it. It is simply a confession and I confess that I have found myself to be a coward. For all my honesty I cannot find the courage to bring myself to pen what I long to most._

_Instead I will write what I know you would wish to read. I swear to you Bonnie, I will do everything in my power to return home once more._

_Yours always,_

_DS_


	14. Tete-a-Tete

**Disclaim!**

**What's this? Another update to AE in less than a month? I'm on a freakin' roll! lol.**

**I really think you guys are going to like this one... I certainly hope so. This chapter is jam-packed with STUFF. Lots happens so I'll definitely want to hear what you thought of everything. I'm actually really nervous about this chapter. GAH! (Attempts to shake out nerves). Fair warning, there is some dark subject matter towards the middle so be prepared for that.**

**Thank you to everyone who took the time to review! I can't always respond to everyone, but I want to make sure you know I'm grateful for your support.**

**FFT - Giuseppe Salvatore does not make sense on TVD. He's cold-blooded enough to shoot both of his sons simply because they were trying to save Katherine from imprisonment. He would rather pass off their deaths as a heroic lie than risk anyone finding out the truth and ruining his good name. Yet when Damon abandons the army we see no punishment for his actions... Realistically, Damon would have probably been disowned so... I'm going to pretend that Giuseppe chose to save face by paying some people off (or something) and, much like a Godfather, making the problem disappear.**

* * *

Bonnie wrung her hands pointlessly as she attempted, once again, to quiet her growing anxiety. She paced a hole into the floor in front of Lenore's stall while the horse munched thoughtfully on her evening meal.

It had been over two weeks since she'd heard anything from Damon and with each new day that passed her paranoia grew. Stefan had reassured her that this was nothing to be concerned about, that there were a multitude of reasons for why they had not received word from him. Logically, Bonnie agreed, but emotionally, she was in turmoil.

She wished she could go back to a time when she didn't give a rat's ass about Damon Salvatore. Her life had been so much easier then.

She snorted suddenly, aware that going back in time was what got her into this position in the first place.

Really, she just wished she had someone to talk to about these things. Stefan was probably more worried than he let on and she didn't want to upset him further with her own fears. Emily was obviously out of the question and it didn't feel right laying this at Gladys's feet, so that just left Lenore...

Sure Lenore wasn't human, but she had ears and, at the moment, that was good enough for Bonnie. She needed to talk _at_ something; she needed to vent. Unfortunately, she couldn't do that. Most of the stable workers had retired for the day, but she was aware that there was still a stable boy in one of the stalls at the end grooming a horse.

If only he'd leave so she could talk to herself like a crazy person!

As if hearing her thoughts, the boy popped out of the stall and gave Bonnie a small, shy smile. She halted her pacing to try and smile back, but it felt all wrong on her face so she bobbed her head politely instead. Closing the stall door behind him, the boy meandered outside.

Exhaling deeply, Bonnie waited for his small frame to disappear across the manicured lawn before turning to face the horse. "He's dead."

Lenore shook out her main.

"No, you're right. He's not dead. He's fine. He's – God, he's probably doing something reckless and stupid. With his luck, he'll get injured."

Of course! That was it. Bonnie felt a weight lift from her chest and she almost laughed in relief.

"Yes! Yes, of course. That's why he can't write! He's been shot in the arm and – oh God, the wound's been infected and if they don't cut it off he'll die. No," she buried her head in her hands and gave herself a shake, "I'm being hysterical. He's fine, right?"

Lenore whinnied and dipped her head to get another mouthful of feed. Bonnie took that as consent.

"Right. He's perfectly fine, so I have no reason to panic – but it would be just like him to get himself killed."

"I can assure you, Miss Bordeaux, you have nothing to fear."

Bonnie's spine snapped ramrod straight, her heart beating hard against her ribs.

It couldn't be...

She spun around to find Damon Salvatore looking whole and hearty in his gray uniform. She felt her jaw go slack and he smiled fondly at her expression, continuing, "He is returned to you perfectly unharmed. He did promise, after all."

Was this some kind of weird dream? Was she hallucinating right now?

Never in her life could she have imagined feeling so happy or relieved to see Damon Salvatore of all people.

Her legs unlocked as the shock turned to joy and she was rushing across the stable to throw herself at him. Her arms wrapped around his neck just as he caught her around the middle. They squeezed each other close as if ensuring the other person was real and in their arms.

"Damon," she whispered against his shoulder. He smelt like an odd mixture of dust and something spicy – that distinct, ever present Damon smell that she liked so much.

He held her tighter and whispered back, "How I've missed you, Bonnie." Then he laughed gaily, giving her a quick spin and making her squeal before setting her down and releasing her.

"How is this –" she began at the same time he said, "I see your arm –"

They both stopped short, smiling sheepishly before trying again to much the same effect.

Laughing, Damon relented with a flourish of his hand and a bow of his head, "After you."

"No, no. You first," she insisted, trying desperately to reign in... everything: her smile, her curiosity, the sheer giddiness coursing through her veins.

"I take it you are well. Your arm has healed quite nicely, I see."

"Yeah, yeah, it's –" She really didn't care about her arm right now. Unable to hold back any longer, she bombarded him with questions, "How is this even possible? What are you doing here? I thought you were going to Cold Harbour. What happened?"

His eyes became downcast as he took off his cap and fisted it. "I had a change of heart."

"What do you mean?"

"I found I had no taste for battle so I took my leave of it."

Her eyes widened as she grasped what he was saying. "You just left? Isn't that dangerous?"

"No more so than battle." He paused a moment and when he spoke again his voice was barely audible. "Do you think me a coward for not staying?"

Surprised at the question, she shook her head though he couldn't see it and replied honestly, "No. I think it takes a certain kind of bravery to walk away from all that knowing what the consequences might be."

She had studied in her history class some of the stuff they did to deserters in the Civil War if they were caught. Some were imprisoned, many executed. It made her stomach turn thinking about the risk Damon had taken coming back here.

Gratitude and something Bonnie couldn't put her finger on, something that made her heart beat a little faster, flashed in Damon's blue orbs as he finally raised his head. He looked reassured by her words, but she noticed a tension around his shoulders that hadn't been released and realized he wasn't safe just yet.

There was still his father to deal with and Giuseppe Salvatore was going to blow a gasket.

Ever in tune with her train of thought, Damon frowned. "If only my father could be persuaded to believe so."

Bonnie winced in sympathy. "Does he know?"

"I imagine he has had word of it by now."

"What do you think he'll do?" she asked reluctantly, not really wanting to contemplate what his father might deem a suitable punishment.

"The possibilities are infinite, Bonnie," Damon jested with a lightness that didn't carry. "I know not. He has made no mention of my desertion to Stefan."

"How do you know?"

"I came upon my brother and Miss Katherine moments before coming to find you. Stefan asked if I was on leave."

"Did you tell him the truth?"

"Not in any particulars, but he knows I have absconded if that is what you mean," he answered with an amused lift of his brow.

"You should tell him," she persuaded, nodding her head encouragingly for added effect. "He won't judge you for it."

He took a step closer and she concentrated really hard on the hat he was still holding. She could feel his gaze sliding over her frame as he studied her intently. "Perhaps I may, if I can steal him away from Miss Katherine for the length of time required to tell him."

He had been here for two seconds and he already saw the difference between Stefan and Katherine. She wondered if that bothered him. He didn't sound bothered, but she couldn't tell for certain.

Biting her lip, she wondered if she should ask him.

She rejected the idea as soon as it formed. That had bad move written all over it.

Damon cleared his throat, pulling her attention back to the moment at hand. "If I am thrown to the streets and made a desperate man, I wonder if you might..." he hesitated and she peeked up at him from under her lashes. His pupils were large as he stared back at her and finished, "have me."

Her heart jumped out of her chest, trying to process what he was asking her. Damon, for his part, looked shell shocked. His eyes wider than she'd ever seen them, he straightened up to his full height and held his hands aloft as he attempted to correct himself, "Take me! – No! I mean –"

His cheeks flamed and he pressed his eyes closed, shaking his head ardently as he backpedalled, "That is to say, I wonder if you might _shelter_ me for a short time. Till I found something."

Bonnie pressed her lips together hard to keep from laughing and failed miserably. Even though her pulse was still skipping it didn't hinder her amusement. For the first time since getting to 1864 she wished she had a camera – that had been priceless.

Poor Damon looked like he was about to burst from embarrassment, so she tempered her laughter. "Well, my room is about the size of one these stalls so it would be a tight squeeze, but I'm sure we could make it work."

His embarrassment melted away from him, though the remnants of it still stained his cheeks, and he managed to look her in the eye when he asked, "Truly?"

She shifted, wiping her suddenly very sweaty palms on the rough skirt of her dress. "Of course. What are friends for?"

His gaze dropped and he nodded. "Of course."

"When do you think you'll talk to your father?"

"Ah," he sighed, "I will be postponing that delightful tête-a-tête for as long as possible."

"You can't avoid it forever."

"Yes well, it will hold until after supper," he remarked dryly, then meeting her stare head on he asked somberly, "Will you meet with me tonight? At our tree? I fear I may need a friend and there's so much I wish to say to you."

Bonnie swallowed past the dryness of her throat and promised, "I'll be there."

* * *

The moon was bright overhead as Bonnie made her way towards the oak tree, so much so that she didn't have to strain her eyes to see in front of her. She glanced skyward and was overwhelmed by the countless stars blinking back at her. She had never seen so many stars in her life and never as clearly as she could now.

The hot, luminous lights spilled across the night sky and she felt giddy looking at them all. Or maybe it wasn't the perfect view of the Milky Way that sent excitement thrumming through her veins. If she were going to be honest she'd admit to feeling buzzed ever since seeing Damon again.

She thought distance between them over the last month would have helped to lessen her growing attachment, but it only seemed to make it worse. She had thought about him more while he was gone than she had when she saw him every day.

Deep down Bonnie was a pragmatist and, although she was feeling uncharacteristically frivolous at the moment, she knew that nothing good could come from having a crush on Damon Salvatore at _any_ point in time.

But she couldn't magically force herself to stop feeling something for him, she knew that. Although she wondered if there was something she _could_ do to make things easier for herself.

Racking her brain for a solution, her footsteps slowed.

She could always stop hanging around him altogether, but Damon would hound her until he knew why she didn't want to be around him anymore and she couldn't think of a plausible reason that he would listen to. Plus, she really didn't _want _to stop seeing him. It might be the crush talking, but he was one of the best things about this place.

There seemed to be only one thing for it –

A scream ripped across the quiet grounds and Bonnie froze, her heart beating wildly, body coiled and ready for action. She listened harder for any disturbances and scanned the grounds ahead. There was forest on her left and the sprawling manor on her right. Frustration and fear bubbled in her chest. She had no idea where the scream had come from. It had sounded close, that much she was sure of.

Another, shorter scream burst out into the night and she spun. It had come from the manor. She ran as fast as she could, the wind whistling in her ears as she bounded forward. The closer she got, the more concerned she grew, the more she could make out sounds of a fight.

She stopped in front of the outside entrance to the kitchens, the one used for deliveries. The commotion was coming from inside. She took a deep breath to steady her shaking hands.

Slowly, carefully, she gripped the knob on the door and turned, pushing it forward. She opened it just enough for her to squeeze through and quickly pressed herself against the wall closest to her and peered around the corner.

She spotted Thomas. His back was to her and he was struggling against a woman, Bonnie couldn't see who. He was trying to force the girl's arms down to her sides while simultaneously keeping his hand plastered over her mouth to stop her screaming. The woman was giving him a hell of a time though: kicking at him when he tried to lift her off the floor and tossing her head back in an attempt to catch his nose, but she was too short, only managing to hit his collarbone.

Bonnie was moving forward when Thomas spun the woman around and knocked her hard against the side of her face.

Shock froze Bonnie in the centre of the room.

It was Gladys.

Bonnie felt paralyzed and dazed, her eyesight blurring as she heard Gladys topple backwards and hit her head off the side of a table, her body crumpling limply against the stone floor.

Bile rose at the back of Bonnie's throat and the shock was washed away by white, hot rage. She felt her muscles unlock and she blinked through the blurring of her eyes to see Thomas struggling to hike Gladys's skirt.

Without thought Bonnie raised her arm and lifted the smarmy, little bastard from the ground. He shrieked, flailing and trying to look around himself, but Bonnie held him firmly facing away from her. She didn't want to look at him. She wanted to kill. She wanted to crush him like the bug he was.

Something made her hesitate to hurt him though. She had never harmed a human before, let alone killed one and she knew deep in her bones that if she did now, as justified she would feel, it would destroy something inside of her that she would never get back. Thomas wasn't worth that.

Instead, she took great satisfaction in slamming him roughly into one wall and then the other before tossing his newly unconscious form gracelessly on the ground. Pots and pans clattered loudly around him, some landing on his prone frame.

Bonnie began to move across the kitchen to where Gladys lay when she heard her name being spoken, as soft as a whisper, from behind her.

Her heart stopped.

She knew that voice.

_Oh God, please no._

Turning slowly, Bonnie confirmed her fears. Damon Salvatore stood, owl eyed, a few feet away from her.

She endeavored not to let the panic squeezing her stomach into knots overwhelm her. There was a chance he hadn't seen anything. There was a chance he had come just now to find her standing in the middle of the kitchens with two unconscious bodies at her feet.

She studied his features closely looking for clues, but his expression refused to settle. It shifted endlessly between confusion, awe, alarm, wonder, betrayal, excitement, concern and then back again.

The only way she'd know what he'd seen for certain was if she bit the bullet and asked, so steeling herself, she did just that.

"How long have you been here?"

Damon's words tumbled over themselves as he rushed to explain. "I saw you approaching in the distance when you spun suddenly and dashed back from whence you came. You ran as if the hounds of hell were upon you, so I made to follow. I lost you for a time and when I neared the kitchens I heard a ruckus and feared the worst. Only, I entered to find you holding this man suspend mid-air... and then you," he made a sweeping motion reminiscent of the one she'd made as she flung Thomas about the room.

Damon shook his head, frowning and looked at the bodies on the ground, then at Bonnie, then back at the bodies. All the while his hands grasped aimlessly at the space in front of him. What he was reaching for, Bonnie had no idea. Perhaps an explanation.

Her teeth pressed firmly into her bottom lip as she debated whether to give him time to freak out or try and talk him through it.

"How..." Damon started, struggling to find the right words, "how could this be? How is it so? You did not touch him and yet you moved him as though he weighed nothing. Did my eyes deceive me? ...How could this be?"

Balling her hands into fists, she prayed she wasn't about to make a serious mistake.

"No, you're right. I did," she confessed.

His eyes snapped to hers wide and disbelieving. "How?"

A groan from behind her reminded her that now was not the time or place for this discussion.

Wary of how he might react, she inched her way closer to Damon. He made no move to put space between them, nor did he look overly concerned or frightened as she approached. She felt herself relax slightly.

"Look, I'll explain everything, I promise, but right now I need to take care of Gladys."

His gaze flashed to Gladys's crumpled form and he nodded. "Of course. What... what happened here?"

She grimaced. "Thomas tried to..." she laboured to find a tasteful way to phrase it, "take advantage of her."

"Good Lord." He stiffened and leveled her with a look so intense it sent a shudder down her spine as he promised, "I'll have him lynched."

Not knowing how to respond, she ducked her head and glanced over at Gladys. Thinking about it, she wouldn't be able to take the unconscious girl very far at her own. Sighing, she said, "Damon, I may need your help."

"What do you need of me?"

"I'll need help carrying her to my room."

She moved to kneel beside Gladys and raised one of her lifeless arms over her shoulder. When time passed and Damon had yet to move from his spot, she shot him a curious look.

"Cannot you lift her as you did the man?"

"I could," she answered with what she hoped was a non-threatening smile, "but then someone might see me."

"Ah."

He quickly joined Bonnie on Gladys's other side and together they hoisted her to her feet. Without hesitating, Damon slid his other arm under Gladys's knees and lifted her off the floor, carrying all her weight himself.

* * *

When they reached her room, Damon set Gladys down gently on Bonnie's bed. Bonnie grabbed the coarse brown blanket she had thrown at the edge of the bed and draped it loosely over her comatose friend.

When she was done, she turned to find Damon watching her intently. "You said you would explain."

Her pulse raced under her skin and she took a shaky breath. "I did and I will, but not now. I need to get Emily. She needs to look at Gladys, make sure she's alright."

His eyes were bright in the dark of her room as he studied her. A long moment passed before he nodded. "Yes, Emily, of course. You're right."

The silence stretched painfully as both waited for the other to do or say something.

Finally, after what felt a lifetime, Damon asked, "When?"

"Tomorrow. Meet me at our tree and I'll explain."

He nodded again, making to leave and a sudden fear gripped her.

"Damon?"

He spun back to face her. "Yes?"

"Please, don't tell anyone about what you saw. Not Stefan or – anyone. Please, promise me you won't tell."

His hands curled into fists and he leaned into her personal space, bringing his blue eyes level with hers. "I swear to you, I will speak of this to no one. You can trust me, Bonnie."

* * *

Bonnie was a wreck as she stood under the oak tree waiting for Damon.

She hadn't gotten a wink of sleep last night. Between waking Emily and coming up with a plausible excuse for why there was an injured and unconscious woman in her bed, worrying about Gladys and worry about what she was going to say to Damon, Bonnie hadn't been able to relax long enough to shut her eyes.

All day she had felt frayed and on edge. She kept expecting someone to burst into the room, pointing and screaming, "WITCH! Burn her at the stake!"

She knew she was being ridiculous, that Damon had promised not to tell and she believed he wouldn't, but she couldn't silence that tiny voice of doubt.

_What if he changes his mind?_

Throughout the day when she wasn't mindlessly polishing silverware, she was checking in on Gladys.

The night before Emily had tended to her wounds and Gladys had woken not long afterwards. She had been confused and frightened and Bonnie had given her the same excuse she had given Emily for why she was in Bonnie's room – that Bonnie had gone to get a midnight snack when she found Gladys being attacked and had taken a frying pan to the back of Thomas's head and then dragged Gladys back to her room for safety.

Gladys had panicked about Thomas coming after Bonnie, but she reassured the girl that Thomas hadn't even seen her. He would have no idea what happened.

Both Emily and Bonnie agreed that Gladys should stay in bed for the day and so Bonnie had been bringing meals to her from the kitchens. On all three of her trips to the kitchen, Bonnie had kept an eye out for Thomas but he was nowhere to be found.

Now she stood peeling the bark off the oak's trunk just to keep her hands busy. It wasn't like Damon to be late. He was usually here before her...

What if he didn't show?

_What if he's afraid of me?_

That was something Bonnie had never thought possible and now that it was it made her feel sick.

She felt a small piece of wood chip off and prick her right under her nail. Hissing, she brought her finger to her lips and sucked, all the while keeping her eyes glued to where Damon would be coming from.

Something white could be vaguely distinguished in the distance. She squinted trying to make out what it was and didn't have any luck until it was a stone's throw away.

Relief and anxiety swirled through Bonnie as she made out Damon's tall frame. His expression was unreadable and his usually unruly hair even messier, like he'd been running his hands through it non-stop.

Once he was in hearing distance she confessed, "I wasn't sure you would come."

His brow crumpled. "Why ever not?"

"Because of what you saw?"

He frowned, remembering something. "Thomas has been given leave. I enlisted Stefan to place a complaint against him to Father." Bonnie made to interrupt and Damon lifted a hand to signal her not to. "I told him only that I had come upon Thomas attacking a young girl, nothing more. I thought Father would be more receptive if he were to hear it from Stefan rather than myself."

"Thank you for doing that."

"What else was I to do?" he shrugged.

She lifted a curious brow as she took in his relaxed form. "So you're not... frightened of me?"

"Frightened?" He crossed his arms and titled his head, speaking cavalierly, "Perhaps. Perhaps I am overcome with terror. I have no way of knowing as I do not know what it is that I saw."

_Clever,_ Bonnie smirked internally. Externally she bit her lip and nodded.

She had been brainstorming ways to handle this situation all day and the best she could come up with was the truth. Well a part of the truth at least.

Taking in a large, shaky breath she said in a voice so low she hoped he missed it altogether, "I'm a witch."

His eyes bugged. "A witch? Is this the truth of it?"

"It is."

"Double, double, toil and trouble; fire burn, and cauldron bubble," he recited absently to himself as he looked at her like he'd never seen her before.

Bonnie shook her head. "No, it's nothing like that. I don't use a cauldron. Nor do I speak in rhyme or fly a broomstick."

"But you are magic?"

"I am."

Wariness entered his frame and he subtly shifted a step back, a tiny crease settling between his eyebrows. "Do you..." he began cautiously, "worship the devil?"

She laughed despite herself. "What? No. That's crazy."

He relaxed and came closer, offering a shy, apologetic smile. "I did not think it so, but one ought to be careful."

"Yesterday – what you saw... I don't make it a habit to hurt people, but he was attacking my friend –"

"I understand."

Bonnie noticed the moment Damon's shyness fell away. She could see the sudden eager glint to his electric blue eyes as he studied her.

"May I see?"

She didn't need to ask what he was referring to. "I guess so."

She glanced around her surroundings for inspiration. She needed something simple, non-taxing and yet flashy. Not that she was trying to impress him... Oh, who was she kidding? She totally wanted to impress him.

An idea struck and she smiled, closing her eyes. Taking a cleansing breath, she lifted her hands. Opening her eyes she found a dozen or so leaves floating around her and Damon. Concentrating she set them all on fire making the balls of light bobbed in the air.

Damon spun slowly on the spot trying to take it all in, eventually stopping to face her again. His gaze landed on her, the flames dancing across his features and her pulse jumped. His eyes never strayed from her even as, one by one, the points of light burned out leaving trails of smoke drifting in their wake.

"Extraordinary," he whispered.

Heat rushed to her cheeks. "It was nothing."

"I knew it!" he exclaimed. Rushing forward, he spoke excitedly, "I knew from the first moment of our acquaintance that you were no ordinary woman, but never could I have imagined you to be magic. Stefan would be beside himself if he knew –"

She grabbed his arm, effectively catching his attention. "You can't tell Stefan. You can't tell anyone. You have to promise me."

"Bonnie." He looked shocked and slightly offended that she would ask that of him. "I would sooner die than reveal your secret."

Whoa there. He needed to slow his roll.

Holding her hands up, she protested, "I'm not asking you to take this to the grave or something. If someone were threatening you, I would want you to tell."

He frowned, blue eyes flashing. "I wouldn't. Do you have any notion what they would do to you?"

"I can handle myself. I think you've seen that with your own eyes," she pressed and when she recognized the stubborn set of his jaw she felt her stomach clench.

She wouldn't be able to live with herself if Damon died protecting her secret. The very idea made her nauseous.

Closing the remaining space between them, she took hold of his arms and felt his muscles flexing beneath her fingertips. "Damon, you have to promise me you'll tell if someone ever tries to hurt you."

"No. You misunderstand me. _I could not._ Every feeling revolts."

Her grip tightened and she just managed to stop herself from shaking him. "I don't care what your feelings are doing! I'm telling you –"

"And I'm telling you!" His voice rose, temper flaring. "It is out of the question. You shall not ask it of me."

He turned her hold against her, clasping her arms with his large hands and forcing her to meet his stare. There was a desperation in his eyes that she hadn't seen before and he softened his tone. "Bonnie, you must know. Surely you must."

His gaze was searching as it bored into hers. When he didn't find what he was looking for he released his hold on her and stepped back. His hands fell lamely to his sides and his focus transferred to the dark grounds beyond their tree.

His brow furrowed and lips turned down. He kept clenching and unclenching his fists. He looked as if he were in pain.

Bonnie couldn't understand the hesitation she felt to voice her concern; she just knew something was happening. Now, in this moment. She could feel the heaviness of it in the air between them and it gave her pause. Eventually, her concern for him won out against her trepidation.

"Are you alright?"

"No," he answered firmly.

The heaviness grew and the quiet stretched and Bonnie had no idea how to fix whatever this was.

"What is it?"

The silence lasted so long she was convinced he wouldn't answer, but then he spoke barely above a whisper, "I am torn. I am... _tormented._"

She inched forward. "What's wrong? Tell me."

"You?" he laughed without humour. "_You_ are my tormentor."

Breath rushed past her lips in a gasp and she echoed uncomprehendingly, "Me?"

His focus slipped back to her, half bewildered, half charmed, "Are you really so unaware of my affections?"

Bonnie's head spun as she tried understand what he was asking her. "I..."

"I have looked to you time and again for some sign, some inclination towards me; any notion that your feelings may match mine. There are moments when I believe they do only to have you call me friend. I do wish to be your friend, Bonnie – the very best of one, but I am selfish man and I have shown more restraint with you than I have any other thing in my life."

He erased the space separating them in two large strides until he towered over her. He was so close she could feel the warmth radiating from off his skin but he made no move to touch her.

Bonnie buried her hands in the folds of her skirt to hide their shaking.

Damon's gaze was determined as he continued, "I would not push you in this matter. I held my tongue for fear that you might feel obligated to reciprocate due to your position in my household, but I can no longer keep my silence."

Her pulse skittered where his fingertips grazed her wrist as he took her hand in his.

"Bonnie, I have loved you for..." he paused, shaking his head. "I know not how long, only that the feeling grows with each day until I am consumed."

She felt like she was flying, falling, drowning. She couldn't breathe. This wasn't possible. This couldn't be happening. She struggled to make sense of it, but her mind was a fog. All she could think of was Damon – blue eyes, black hair, pale skin; his sarcasm, his anger, his joy, his fears, his love – he loved her.

"But Katherine...?" she managed despite her dazed state.

"It is true I was taken with Miss Katherine for a time. I cannot deny this. And though I do still esteem her highly, my regard for you far outweighs what I might have felt for her and has for some time now." His eyes bored into hers and a shiver crawled its slow way up her spine. "I find that you are her superior in every particular."

His other hand swept across her cheek pushing strands of her hair behind her ear. The trail of his fingers lingered on her skin.

"Will you not speak?" he demanded abruptly, "I need... I must know if there is hope – any at all. Please, speak – tell me... please."

As if his head was suddenly too heavy for him to hold, he rested his forehead against hers. His breath fanned warmly over her already heated cheeks.

For once in her life, Bonnie was at a loss for words. She could barely string together a coherent thought let alone a sentence.

Her silence drew on for too long and she felt Damon stiffen in front of her. Slowly, he lifted himself away, dropping her hand and taking a step back. His gaze lowered to the grass at his feet. "I understand."

Seeing him turn to walk away snapped some sense into her and she finally found her voice long enough to confess, "I never get good things. I used to when I was young, but not anymore."

His attention swung back to her and he hovered somewhere between hope and reservation. Everything seemed to stand still as he asked, "Am I a good thing?"

Terrified, but resolute, Bonnie nodded, "You're a very good thing."

At once, Damon was before her. A warm, rough palm cupped her face while he swooped his head down to brush his lips softly along hers. Then all self-possession left him. He pushed her back until she was pressed firmly into the scratchy trunk of the oak and he was flush against her. She could feel every inch of him through the thin cotton of his shirt and he swallowed her groan.

His fingers tangled in her hair skimming across the base of her neck and she shuddered and tried to pull him closer by his suspenders.

He kissed her slowly... thoroughly. She felt like she was on fire. His tongue grazed her bottom lip and she gasped. He dragged his tongue along hers and let his free hand trace down the side of her ribs to rest at her hip.

It took her a while to register the burning in her lungs as a need for oxygen, but when she did she planted her hands against Damon's chest and pushed gently. He jumped back abruptly, looking shamefaced despite the unfocused glaze to his eyes.

Panting heavily, he bowed his head. "Forgive me. I should have shown restraint."

_Screw restraint_, she almost said but curbed it at the last moment. Instead, she assured, "No. I just needed air."

"Oh," he responded, sounding both surprised and relieved. Peering at her from under his dark lashes, he smirked, "And have you had your fill?"

She was quick to nod yes.


	15. Ursa Minor

**Disclaimed!**

**I'm almost at a thousand reviews... How crazy is that? Thank you guys so much for your continued support! Your reviews really do make my life - I love hearing what you all think. I feel incredibly lucky to be a part of this fandom and hope to continue to satisfy your Bamon needs. lol.**

**This chapter is pretty much just fluff with plot. I hope you enjoy it.**

**FFT - Katherine knows many ways to skin a cat without getting her hands bloody.**

* * *

Katherine broke gently into the shell of her soft boiled egg, peeling away at the shattered pieces as daintily as she could. Once a big enough hole was made, she meticulously sliced through the white flesh until the yoke bled forward to meet her tiny spoon.

Dishing egg onto her dry bread she glanced to where Damon was seated across the table. He had been in a peculiar humour all morning. He was exuberant, his eyes bright and cheeks perpetually flushed. He appeared dazed one moment and hyper-attentive the next. Stefan had remarked upon his odd behaviour with a bewildered expression and Damon had replied in a lively fashion,

"Life has shown me a great kindness, Stefan."

"Oh?" his brother responded with mild curiosity, "What kindness is this?"

He laughed gaily, "I am alive and returned home, am I not? What more reason should I have need of?"

It was Damon's fortune that Giuseppe had broken his fast in his study this morning, for he would have had much to say in that regard.

She, for one, found his good humour disconcerting. He had only just returned from the battlefield, in the most salacious of manners, and he seemed beside himself with joy. It was all very suspect.

Katherine had a notion as to its cause.

The very idea set her teeth on edge, but she supposed it nonetheless.

_Bonnie._

She bit forcefully into her egg-y bread and chewed.

She had been remiss in her attentions to the girl, but Emily had assured her on more than one occasion that the trollop was harmless and quite simple in mind. Bonnie, herself, had become less of a presence around the estate in the past month and Katherine had not bothered to think on her.

As it was, she was a great deal closer to being in possession of the moonstone, she had several key members of the community under her thumb and all was in her favour. There was a chance she would be moving on from Mystical Falls shortly. The girl was of little consequence in the grand scheme of things.

But with Damon's arrival she was reminded of her distaste for the girl. He had been remarkably indifferent towards Katherine since his homecoming last morning. This was not to say he was inattentive; he, along with Stefan, had offered to escort her to the Founder's Ball with the utmost decorum – indeed, he had been a perfect gentleman about it.

And there lay the rub: Damon Salvatore, unlike his brother, was not a perfect gentleman.

In truth, she was not affronted by Damon's indifference toward her – as she preferred Stefan. And compulsion was a quick enough remedy for that, if she cared enough to use it. No, it was his partiality for the serving girl _over_ her.

It was not to be born, and so she would bare it no longer. The girl would have to die; but how to go about it?

Finishing off her egg she started in on a thin slapjack, lathering it with butter and syrup, and hummed thoughtfully.

She could press Emily to take action despite her insistence that Bonnie was not worth the trouble or... Katherine smiled as she sliced off her first piece of slapjack, a plan beginning to take shape.

It was possible that if everything went accordingly Damon would not survive, and though the prospect of losing a toy saddened Katherine, needs must when the devil drives.

* * *

Bonnie swept her duster absently across the bookshelves in front of her; her mind elsewhere, under an oak tree in the middle of the night getting kissed senseless by Damon Salvatore.

Her lips still tingled hours later and she fought not to grin like a madwoman.

Letting out a long breath and giving herself a little shake she attempted to get a hold of herself.

This was not her. She wasn't the type to get soppy over a guy anymore. Not since Ben, and that had been a disaster. More than anything right now she needed to keep a level head. She couldn't forget, not even for a minute, exactly where she was and the dangers that that posed. Being friends with Damon was dangerous, being anything more was insane - it was asking to be whipped and quartered.

The right thing would be to end it before it really began; to tell him last night had been a mistake and that it would be best if they never spoke to one another again. It would keep them both safe.

But the idea of turning him away made her stomach knot unpleasantly. She didn't _want_ to do the right thing. For once in her life she wanted to be stupid and selfish. She liked him too much to say goodbye, way more than she was comfortable thinking about.

"You seem deeply entrenched in your thoughts."

Bonnie jumped, spinning round to face Damon's bright eyes and wide smile.

"Damon."

"Bonnie." He moved to erase the distance between them, but she held up her hand halting his process. Her eyes flicked to her left to find the library doors closed, but she couldn't relax.

He glanced at the doors briefly and then back at her. "Cannot you magic the doors to remain shut until you will them otherwise?"

"I..." Why yes she could.

Well that was embarrassing.

Damon raised a teasing brow as if he could sense the subtle shift in her composure.

"I try not to make it a habit to use my powers for selfish purposes," she replied with a defiant tilt to her chin.

"That is unfortunate," he began, leaning forward and speaking as if it really was a shame, "as I would very much like to kiss you, Miss Banks."

She bit her lip and tried not to grin then made a show of heaving a sigh and rolling her eyes. "I suppose, if it's for _your_ sake..."

"How generous of you," he teased, taking a step closer.

She closed her eyes and took a cleansing breath before muttering a quick locking spell. She wasn't certain of how it would hold up under pressure and that worried her. She hadn't practiced very many locking spells, though she had gotten quite adapt at creating barriers.

Finished, she opened her eyes to find Damon peering at her curiously, "Is it done?"

She nodded and he moved to stand directly before her, leaving very little space between them. Her pulse spiked and she tried not to look eager. Keeping their gazes locked, he took up her hand and raised it to his lips, placing a quick kiss to the centre of her palm and then turning her hand over to repeat the gesture with her index finger, and her middle... and her ring...

"I thought you were going to kiss me?" she asked on a shaky breath.

He smiled, resting a finger under her chin and drawing himself forward, his lips inches away from hers and eyes alight with mischief. "Yes," he confessed in hushed tones, "but I never said where."

What was he trying to do? Kill her?

He brought himself closer, tilting his head at the last second, letting his nose bump along her jaw playfully before placing his lips on the sensitive spot beneath her ear. She felt him smile against her skin when the air caught in her lungs and she shivered. He kissed and nipped his way gently down her neck, hitting every available bit of exposed skin, then sighed and pulled back abruptly to glare at her buttoned collar.

"This collar is a hindrance," he stated, a smirk snaking its way across his lips as one hand played lightly with the button of said hindrance, "Shall I divest you of it?"

"No," she answered quickly, her small hand wrapping around his larger one before he could do any such thing.

"No?" he echoed back, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy.

"No," she repeated, "there will be no divesting of any kind in the library."

"Perhaps in the parlor?" he countered hopefully.

"No."

He gave her a slow once over, humming sadly.

Rolling her eyes, she laughed before grabbing hold of his own collar and pulling him down to kiss him firmly –

When a loud rattling to their left startled them both. Bonnie's heart jumped to her throat as Damon took several quick steps back. They both watched the library doors shake with the effort of someone trying to open them.

"Curious..." Bonnie heard from the other side.

Damon stiffened, snapping his head in her direction and, eyes fearful, mouthing, "My father."

Her blood ran cold.

"Mayhap it is locked?" came a second voice that froze her cold blood completely.

_Katherine._

"These doors lack the facility. Jammed more as like..."

"Would you allow me to try?" Katherine asked sweetly.

Giving no warning, Bonnie lifted her arm and sent Damon flying across the room. He released a small sound of surprise and landed sprawled in one of the overstuffed armchairs with an 'oof.'

The doors rattled once more, this time giving just a little under the force.

Righting himself, Damon had just enough time to look at her with startled blue eyes before she launched a book at him. Pulse skittering as Katherine tried the doors again, Bonnie watched Damon half duck and catch the book then just barely managed to turn around, pick up her duster and pretend to work when the library does flung open.

"Father, Miss Katherine; to what do I owe this pleasure?" Damon greeted, sounding both calm and mildly surprised.

"Miss Katherine seeks my counsel on a small matter," Giuseppe stated. "I suggested we retire to my study, but Miss Katherine insisted upon the library."

_Did she now...?_ Bonnie thought darkly as worry wormed its uncomfortable way into her stomach.

"Did not you hear the door as we tried to enter?" Katherine questioned.

"I confess I did, but only after a time," Damon answered smoothly. "I was most engaged with this novel and when I did finally become aware of your attempts to enter, I'm afraid I was of no use. You had proved successful."

"I see..."

"Come, Miss Katherine," Giuseppe spoke suddenly. "You wished for my confidence away from prying ears and it would seem my study was the wiser course after all."

"I..." Katherine hesitated then said, "Of course."

Bonnie listened carefully to the rustle of skirts that marked their departure before sagging against the bookshelf. Releasing a long, silent breath she turned to find Damon peeking over the top of his book at the library doors, his brow knitted.

She drew the silence out a moment longer, hoping Katherine would be far enough away to not overhear when she finally said, "That was too close."

Damon snapped the book closed and placed it on the small side table. "I concur. We must take more care –"

"No, Damon." She shook her head, frowning and hating the taste of her next words before they even filled her mouth. "_This_ is too dangerous."

It was one thing when getting caught was an abstraction – it hadn't felt more possible than their friendship being discovered, but with Katherine aware of them and, if this incident were any indication, actively trying to out their relationship... it would only be a matter of time.

If Damon hadn't gotten her to do that locking spell...

Her chest tightened uncomfortably as she realized how close they had come to losing their lives.

"I..." Damon's face crumpled in sudden understanding, his voice barely audibly when he spoke, "Yes, you're right... of course..." He nodded absently, eyes downcast. "It was a foolishness on my part to believe otherwise."

Bonnie blinked rapidly and looked down at the duster she was still holding. A heavy silence dragged torturously for far too long, only to be broken by the sound of cotton against leather. She could feel him hovering across the room.

"It is just..." he began tentatively, "I do not wish to live without you."

_I don't want to live without you either_, she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from saying.

This was the safe thing to do. This was the _right_ thing to do.

_Then why does it feel so wrong_, she wondered as she lifted her gaze to meet his.

"I would rather a short life filled with your presence than a long one without it," he spoke then gave a short, bitter laugh. "And yet, I would never wish the same fate upon you. The very thought –"

He broke off, shaking his head, and when he spoke again his tone was resigned but resolute, "No, you are right. This is best."

The sight of him walking across the room to leave broke something inside of her and she was flicking her wrist and shutting the doors before he could reach them; before she could fully comprehend what she was doing. He spun to her, surprised, and she blurted in frustration,

"This is ridiculous! I'm a witch for God's sake. All that power should be good for something, right?"

He faltered for a second before his lips turned down. "No, you were correct. It's far too dangerous."

"It really is," she agreed, taking a large step in his direction.

His brow furrowed as he watched her cautiously. "And if we were to be discovered they would surely torture us both before a swift execution."

"Undoubtedly," she nodded, inching closer.

He tensed, eyes narrowing. "Bonnie... we're agreed, are we not?"

She vacillated between common sense and irrationality. Her logic told her one thing and every other part of her told her another. She wanted to keep him safe, but she didn't want to give him up in order to do it... Surely, her magic could keep him from harm. _I could protect you,_ she thought, looking up at him as he frowned back at her. _I can protect us both._

Biting her lip, she came to a stop a foot away from him and confessed, "I'm not so sure we are."

His eyes widened dramatically. "_You_ were the one to speak sense first."

"I know," she replied apologetically.

He hesitated, moving forward a step, shaking his head. "No, Bonnie... I am... resolved in this matter," he said, sounding anything but.

A strange swell of hope and anxiety rose in her chest. She nodded and stood close enough to feel the warmth of his skin without touching him.

He leaned towards her slightly, his dark hair falling across his forehead as he whispered solemnly, "If any harm were to befall you, I would never forgive myself."

"I feel exactly the same about you." Her hand found the metal buckle on his suspenders.

His palm rested lightly against her cheek, the heat of it sending a slow shiver up her spine. "Then we concur; we must be forever parted."

She tugged him down roughly be the neck, crushing her lips to his and letting her fingers rack through the soft curls of his hair and along his scalp. He groaned deep in his chest, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her tight against him.

Like _hell_ they were parting. Fuck Katherine; Bonnie was going to make this work.

* * *

Katherine stabbed her final French bean and brought it gracefully to her lips as she studied the men around her. Giuseppe Salvatore was focused intently on finishing the haunch of venison and potatoes left before him while Damon and Stefan talked animatedly about today's paper.

Today's events had proven most disappointing. Giuseppe had spent a great portion of the day in town, had even taken lunch with Jonathan Gilbert rather than return home. It left her very little opportunity to expose Damon's affair with the serving girl.

She chewed the vegetable delicately, watching as Stefan laughed heartily at something his brother said.

She had contemplated compelling Stefan and having him give evidence to Giuseppe, fictitious or otherwise, of Damon's dalliances. If there were anyone in this world Giuseppe would believe, even lacking attestation, it would be Stefan.

But in the destruction of the brother, she would surely destroy Stefan as well for, if she were to employ him in such a fashion, he would never forgive himself. She would be forced to compel him endlessly. Compelling him not to think on _why_ he betrayed his brother; compelling him to forgive himself for his part in the matter or perhaps having him forget his part entirely, though that would prove difficult with everyone else being privy to it; compelling him to lose any affection he had for Damon...

The list went on and on and it was all very tiresome.

She had yet to even reveal her true nature to Stefan and she found herself hesitating. The thought of him rejecting her, of having to compel his affections, left a sour taste in her mouth. She would if she must, but only just.

Stefan turned his head, catching her eye and sending her a discreet smile as the servants came sweeping into the room. They cleared the table of the second course and replaced it with ice pudding and strawberry cream while Katherine returned the secret smile with a flutter of her lashes.

No, the trollop was not worth tainting his affections over. If this was to be done, their discovery must appear to be accidental. She had had the perfect opportunity that very morning and her failure grated.

When she had first made attempt on the door she had put little vigour into it, but that had quickly changed when she realized it would not, indeed, budge. It had taken a strength more than human to pry those doors apart.

_Something_ was amiss. A door with no lock needing such force to be opened? Suspicious at best.

Was there something more to the girl than Emily had led her to believe? If that be the case, why would Emily feel the need to lie to her to protect _Bonnie?_

She frowned, tapping her spoon gently against her desert plate before scooping up a dollop of pudding.

A test then; she would instruct Emily to watch Bonnie even closer and if Emily failed to report what Katherine knew already to be true – that the girl was running about scandalously with Damon Salvatore – well... Emily had been such a loyal servant to this point. It would be such a pity to lose her. It was so difficult to find good help.

* * *

The tall, cool strands of grass tickled at the nape of Bonnie's neck and behind her ears as she looked up into the overwhelming night sky. There wasn't a cloud in sight; the moon was still bright overhead, though beginning to wan and as far as the eye could see the sky was blanketed in stars. Bonnie wondered if this was what it was like to go camping in the countryside or if there was nowhere left in the 21st century where you could see the stars like this.

Damon lay beside her in the grass, his arm outstretched to help guide her eyes as he spoke, "If you follow along those three stars – the one at the very end – _that_ is Polaris, the North Star."

"Really?"

She followed his finger to where it pointed at a particularly bright star and squinted. She had never actually seen Polaris before. Or maybe she had and just never knew what she was seeing.

He hummed in confirmation and then continued, "Polaris connects to Ursa Minor."

She twisted her head to look at him and he mirrored her, his lips quirking slightly when he noticed her blank stare. "The Little Dipper," he clarified.

"Ah, that I recognize," she said, turning her attention back to the night sky.

"Can you see it?"

"No," she answered with a small shake of her head. He grasped her hand, lifting it above them and using her finger to trace invisible lines in the air.

"Do you see it now?" he asked when he had finished.

She stared a moment longer, tilting her head to one side until she made out what looked to be a small rectangle and a handle. "Yeah, I think I do."

He brought her hand down to rest loosely on his chest. She could feel his steady heartbeat through the soft cotton of his shirt against the back of her hand. She found herself wondering what it might be like to be doing this with 21st century Damon. Did vampires have heartbeats too? Would his skin be warm or cold? Did he even remember how to find Ursa Minor?

She shuffled just a bit closer to Damon's side, laying her head against his shoulder. The cloaking spell she had placed on them offered her some level of comfort. She was much stronger in the area of illusions, so she felt safe knowing her spell plus the natural darkness of the night would make them close to impossible to spot.

"The Founder's Ball is in a fortnight," he said suddenly.

"Oh?" she said politely. "And are you going?"

"My attendance is mandatory." He sounded anything but pleased by the idea.

"Who are you going with?"

He turned his head to flash her a smile. "You, if you will do me the honour."

She rolled her eyes, scoffing, "Right. Let me just get my neck measured for a noose and we'll be on our way."

"How incredibly morbid," he commented, seeming both appalled and vaguely amused that she could say such a thing.

She sat up, taking her hand away from his chest so she could lean her weight on it as she looked down at him. "Who are you actually taking?"

"No one. My brother is escorting Miss Katherine and I am to play chaperone."

"Sounds like a delightful evening," she said wryly.

He chuckled lightly, his eyes sparking in mischief. "And if it is not, I will drink until it is."

She shook her head in mock reproach. "You're going to be a terrible chaperone; I fear for Stefan's virtue."

"Ha!" he chortled, his smile wide. His fingers found a fold in her skirt and his attention drifted to his hands as he said, "I do wish you could attend. I long to see you adorned in finery, something befitting of you. You would be a sight to behold."

She watched as he played absently with the crease of her skirt as she tried to imagine it. Katherine's dresses were quite stunning, but for the life of her, Bonnie couldn't imagine herself wearing something like that. "Those dresses are probably really heavy and hard to walk in," she responded thoughtlessly.

He shot her a surprised look. "Only you would look at a fine dress and think it impractical."

He released her skirt and got to his feet, turning to face her and extending a hand. She stared at it and raised a questioning brow.

"It may not be within my ability to bring you to the ball, Miss Brown, but I most certainly may bring the ball to you," he offered in way of explanation before bowing slightly. "May I have this dance?"

She lifted her hand to place it in his, but stopped just short, hesitating. "I have a confession."

His brow furrowed and he spoke somberly, "Your dance card is full."

A tiny smile played at the corner of her mouth even as she rolled her eyes. "I don't know how to dance."

Well she did, but she didn't know how to waltz or foxtrot or whatever it was that passed for dancing in 1864.

He made a flippant gesture with his hand. "Easily remedied. I just so happen to be the most accomplished dance instructor in all of Virginia."

"That's convenient," she said, her smile widening tenfold.

"Up," he commanded and, not waiting for her consent, took hold of her arm to gently tug her to her feet.

She contemplated just going limp on him and seeing what he did, but decided to play along instead, getting to her feet in front of him and waiting patiently for further instruction.

His eyes narrowed suddenly as he began to appraise her, walking slowly in a circle, his arms folded behind his back and posture impeccable. She fidgeted, feeling his gaze rove over her frame even as he disappeared from view.

"Being the most sought after instructor in all of Virginia," he began haughtily, "I only deign to teach students of the highest calibre."

"I thought you were the most accomplished, not the most sought after," Bonnie couldn't help but point out.

Behind her now, his lips found the shell of her ear as he countered teasingly, "The most accomplished _and_ most sought after." He stepped back and began circling again. "Do try to keep up, Miss Bradshaw."

She turned her head so she could glare at him as he stopped beside her.

"Now, I need not inform you that my word is law and this lesson must be taken in all seriousness. There will be no laughter, no _smiling_ and absolutely no tomfoolery permitted of any kind."

Her lips quirked up.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, wagging a finger in reprimand.

She pulled her face into a severe frown and his eyes danced with contained amusement as he nodded his head approvingly. "Very good. Now let us begin."

He crossed to stand in front of her. Placing a warm hand below the centre of her back just above her waist, he swiftly pulled her forward. Not expecting it, she stumbled ungracefully, her chin making forceful contact with his chest.

Her teeth knocked together and she groaned as the reverberations jolted up her jaw. She rubbed her chin in an effort to ease the sensation and squinted up at Damon to see him doing much the same to his chest.

Noticing her tending her jaw, he removed her hand and replaced it with his own, his eyes concerned, "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine. It was more shock than pain," she reassured with an easy smile.

Appeased, he mock scolded with a tilt of his head, "Did I not expressly say no tomfoolery?"

"Sorry," she played along, "I'll promise to behave from now on."

He swiped a quick thumb along her jaw before moving his hand once more to her lower back and taking up her left hand securely in his right. Slowly this time, he pulled her forward until there was no space between them.

"I shall keep a steady count of one, two, three. On the second count of one, I will step forward and you back," he instructed simply.

Bonnie nodded her understanding, listening closely as he began to count and anticipating her first move. He got to one and she stepped back with her right foot only to feel him step firmly onto her left.

She yelped and he jumped back abruptly, his face contrite. "Apologies."

"No, no, it's fine." She shook her head, brushing off his concern for the second time in so many minutes. The pain was already a passing thought, but Damon looked dismal, his brow crumpled and lips turned down.

"This is proving a great deal less romantic than intended... and a sight more dangerous," he said so despondently that Bonnie felt a peculiar mirth bubbling in her chest. She ducked her head quickly so her hair would hide her smile but it did nothing to quiet the sound of her laughter.

She peeked at him from under the curls of her hair and their eyes caught. His downturned mouth twitched repeatedly before breaking into a wide smile of its own as his amusement joined hers to fill the night air between them.

"It's a good thing you're the most accomplished teacher in all of Virginia otherwise this might have been a disaster," Bonnie teased.

His grin widened. "Beyond all comprehension, to be sure."

Heartened, Bonnie grasped his hand and placed her other on his shoulder. "Again? I think I know what to do this time."

"If you are certain," he said, taking the necessary position.

It took a few tries but eventually they fell into an easy rhythm: back left, side right and together; forward right, side left and together. They moved naturally, their bodies flush as they danced.

Bonnie was a little sceptical that anyone danced pressed this closely together in 1864 but, with Damon's soft hair brushing along her temple as he rested his check beside hers, she couldn't bring herself to voice her suspicions.

The smooth sound of him humming a simple melody as he continued to lead her across the grassy field tickled her ear. She leant back slightly to look at him. "Is that Long, Long Ago?"

A mild look of annoyance crossed his face before he scoffed, "I _am_ partial to other songs I'll have you know. In fact," he continued, his tone conspiratorial, "I prefer Greensleeves."

"Sacrilege!" Bonnie exclaimed dramatically.

He shook his head and, holding her tighter, lifted her off her feet and spun her quickly. She gave a startled squeal, feeling her stomach swoop pleasantly even as he set her on her feet again. Biting her lip to temper her smile, she narrowed her eyes and gave him a chastising tap to the chest.

His responding smile ate up half his face and she was struck by how beautiful he really was. Not just on the surface but deep down. He was passionate and earnest and so full of life it was impossible to not be infected by his enthusiasm at times. She wanted desperately to protect him from everything bad that would ever happen to him; that would rob him of his innocent hunger for everything the world had to offer.

He ducked his head suddenly, resting his forehead against hers and, keeping their eyes locked, released her hand to tangle his fingers in her hair. A wicked smirk painted on his face, he whispered, "Why Miss Bell, how you stare at me... it's positively indecent."

Giving her no chance to respond, he covered her lips with his.


	16. The Balance

**Disclaim!**

**Hey Guys! This one's a long one... Hope you enjoy. I have my A/N at the end of the chapter this time.**

**This chappie is dedicated to Butterfly1221 who hit the nail on the head in her last review about certain plot points in this chapter.**

**FFT - Bonnie has told Damon a lot about 'Canada.' His ideas of what Canada is like are based on Bonnie's descriptions and Bonnie's been describing the 21st century with an 1864 coat of paint. None of the technology, but all of the social norms.**

* * *

Bonnie cracked one eye open reluctantly, noticing the pre-dawn light beginning to filter through her tiny shoebox window. She rolled over to her side, taking her rough-spun blanket with her – feeling it tangle between her legs as she attempted to bury her face in her pillow.

After almost four months of constant early mornings, she had grown accustomed to waking at the crack of dawn. Unfortunately, Damon had convinced her to stay out just _a little while longer_ and she would be paying for it today.

Her mind was a groggy mess. If she could just have five more minutes of sleep, she was sure she'd wake up refreshed and ready to go. She just needed five more minutes...

_Knock, knock, knock._

And of course, that was not going to be happening.

Groaning, Bonnie pushed herself up until she was half-sitting, half-slumping over her pillow. Doing a mini stretch and yawn before getting to her feet, she shuffled to the door. Swinging it open, she found Emily standing patiently on the other side.

"Bonnie," she greeted with a smile as her sharp eyes took in her friend's disheveled appearance. She lifted a curious brow. "You look as if you have not slept a wink."

Bonnie mussed her curls absently.

She had maybe gotten three hours of sleep in total. Somehow, climbing a tree with Damon had seemed a better idea than climbing into bed alone. They had sat in the branches for ages, whispering secrets to each other. It was childish, but it made her stomach swoop pleasantly every time she thought about it.

Heaving a sigh, she offered Emily a small shrug. "I had a lot on my mind. What brings you here so early?"

Emily usually only visited on their free days, but their next free day wasn't for a while still, so something must have happened.

Emily quickly glanced both ways down the hall before stepping by Bonnie and into her room. She motioned towards the door and Bonnie moved to close it.

"What is it?" Bonnie asked, trepidation crawling its slow way up her spine.

Emily's face was sombre. "Miss Katherine has bid me redouble my efforts with you."

Guilt wrapped around Bonnie's heart and gave it a little squeeze.

She should have seen this coming. Of course Katherine would use every tool she had available to trip Bonnie up.

"That's not good," she replied simply, her eyes suddenly finding the wood paneling of the floor fascinating.

"There is _some_ good news though," Emily continued. "Katherine has chosen today to visit her good friend Pearl. I will attend to her this morning and then she will away to town. I will have the rest of the day free to labour on the spell and, if you will join me after your day's work, together we may see it finished sooner than expected. I do feel we are close."

Bonnie's guilt ridden heart sunk into her stomach. "That's great."

"Bonnie," Emily began softly, "are you ill?"

She shook her head firmly and forced herself to meet Emily's eyes, smiling sheepishly. "Nah, just tired."

Concern wrinkled Emily's forehead even as she nodded her acceptance. "I will leave you then, to dress and ready for today."

Bonnie watched as she crossed the room to make her exit.

"Emily, I..."

Emily turned to stare at her patiently while Bonnie chewed her lip. She hated lying to Emily, especially with her ancestor trying so hard to help her and keep her safe. She wondered what Emily would do if she told her the truth – if she told her everything.

She wanted to be honest with her. She felt she owed her that much.

"I..." The words caught in her throat and she dropped her head in shame. "I just wanted to thank you for everything. It means a lot, what you're doing."

"Would you not do the same for me?"

Bonnie's gaze swung to Emily's as she answered earnestly, "In a heartbeat."

Emily's lips stretched into a smile, "Then I would ask you not to thank me. What is a spell amongst kin?"

Bonnie did her best to return the smile, but it felt strained. Feeling a sudden urge to connect with her ancestor, she asked, "Speaking of kin; how is Francis?"

Emily's eyes widened as she blushed. "He is well, though I know not how he is kin."

"He's my grandfather, that's how," Bonnie replied and to her delight, the red in Emily's cheeks grew. "You must like him a lot," she noted, a tiny smile slowly sneaking its way to her lips.

"It has barely been a fortnight since we began our courtship," Emily retorted rationally.

"And?"

"And..." she hesitated for a moment before stepping away from the door and back towards Bonnie, gushing, "he is the most amiable man I have ever encountered."

"And the most handsome?" Bonnie prompted helpfully.

Emily grabbed Bonnie's hands, squeezing gently as she grinned, "And the most handsome. And he is intelligent and ambitious. He works as a clerk in a haberdashery, but he dreams of owning his own small plot of land that he can work himself. He is a perfect gentleman. In truth, I never thought I would meet his like."

"I'm really happy for you, Emily," she told her softly.

Emily's sharp eyes warmed. "And I have you to thank for this. Were it not for you, we may have never spoken."

She shrugged casually and smiled, "Wouldn't you do the same for me?"

"In the beat of a heart."

* * *

Bonnie had a quick breakfast with Gladys. Her friend greeted her with a stolen, thinly sliced piece of bacon and Bonnie broke it into two small portions so they could share it. Gladys tsked disapprovingly, insisting that it was meant for Bonnie alone but eventually relented when Bonnie wouldn't back down.

Gladys was all dimpled, gap-toothed smiles and chatter after that. Apparently the new head of kitchen was a much more efficient and business-like, bristly haired woman, and though she was almost half-blind, she was much better tempered than Thomas ever was.

It felt like a weight lifting off Bonnie's shoulders to see her friend in such good condition and to know that she would be treated better than she had been in the past.

* * *

Walking slowly down the hallway towards the parlor, Bonnie could hear the sound of someone tinkering with the piano and felt excitement fizzing in her veins.

_Damon,_ her mind sang and since he seemed to know her schedule inside out, it wasn't such a far-fetched idea.

She paused outside of the parlor's twin doors to give her customary once over to her favourite painting and then pushed into the room.

Stefan, seated in a large chair in the corner, looked up from behind a newspaper to smile warmly at her. She offered a shy smile back, moving further into the room while Damon stopped mid-note at the piano to remark affectionately,

"My, but does not our Bonnie look well today, Stefan."

Her cheeks flushed painfully and she rolled her eyes. Why didn't he just hold a sign that said, _WE'RE TOGETHER NOW!_

Busying herself with dusting the contents of a small table, Bonnie purposely put her back to the room_. I will not be adding fuel to this fire_, she decided firmly, though she couldn't resist shooting a disapproving look his way over her shoulder. He smiled widely in response.

"Indeed," Stefan agreed politely.

A sudden yawn caught Bonnie by surprise and she quickly covered her mouth with her hand, ducking her head to muffle the sound and hoping neither Salvatore had noticed.

Stefan spoke again, sounding thoughtful, "If not fatigued. Her friends should use her more kindly in future," he finished pointedly.

"Yes, they have been most greedy with her attentions. They will not treat her thusly in future and will see her to bed at a decent hour, I assure you."

"Excuse me," she exclaimed suddenly. Checks burning hotter than ever before, Bonnie swung to glare reproachfully at both brothers. "Could we not speak about me as if I'm not here, please?"

Stefan dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Of course. My apologies, Bonnie."

Damon was a great deal less contrite. "What are we to speak of, then, if not you?" he challenged with a sly smile.

"The weather," she snapped and then rolled her eyes. "I don't know, nor do I care. Just not about me, okay?"

She turned resolutely back to her dusting.

"Come, Stefan. Bonnie wishes for us to speak on the weather. Shall we indulge her?"

"Certainly, if it pleases," Stefan assented easily. "The sun has been persistent these last few weeks. Many are hoping for a shower to ease the heat and help with crops."

"I have no care for rain at present," Damon said and Bonnie tilted her head in curiosity. She knew for a fact that Damon loved the rain. Keeping her focus firmly on the decanters in front of her, she tried her best not to pay any more attention.

But she could still hear Damon speaking,

"I have become quite partial to the sun, these past few months."

"Oh? Why so?"

"Bonnie is the culprit, for she is the sun itself here on Earth – all gold and warm, and when she smiles –"

Bonnie spun to face him, her heart tripping in her chest even as she snapped, "What are you doing?"

With a rehearsed sort of boredom, he shrugged, "As you asked. I am discussing the weather with my brother. Are you not pleased?"

Stefan lifted a hand to his mouth and coughed, though it sounded suspiciously like laughter to her ears. Frowning, she met Damon's gaze, her lips turning down further when she noticed the spark of mischief there. "Do something else," she ordered, "Something that doesn't involve talking."

"And what would you have us do, Bonnie?" he asked with an arched brow. "I thought I should enquire, since you're being so very demanding."

She glanced at Stefan, who had finished 'coughing' and was now smiling at her in amusement. He nodded encouragingly, like he knew she had it in her to one up his brother, and she felt herself smile in return.

Locking eyes with Damon, she spoke confidently, "Entertain me."

"Beg pardon?" He blinked uncomprehendingly.

"_Entertain_ _me_," she repeated as if speaking to an exceptionally slow child before shifting her attention to his brother. "Stefan, you can do whatever you like."

"Thank you, Bonnie," Stefan said warmly, raising the newspaper from his lap so he could continue reading.

"What's this?" Damon demanded in surprise, "Why is _he_ free do as he pleases?"

"He didn't call me demanding," Bonnie answered with a dark look.

Stefan's laughter spilled from behind his newspaper and Damon frowned before his lips quirked into a tiny grin. Turning to face his piano fully, he asked, "Any requests?"

She bit her lip thoughtfully for a moment then said, "Long, Long Ago followed by Greensleeves."

It was about time she heard what they sounded like. Damon peeked at her over his shoulder, eyes crinkled in delight. "As you wish."

* * *

Bonnie was almost finished with the room when Stefan stood from his chair.

"I think I may take out Homer for a time. It has been far too long since I last rode him. Would you care to join me, Damon?"

"In a moment," Damon answered idly as he played the last notes of Beethoven's Pathetique – Adagio Cantabile. "I will meet you at the stables."

"Try not to tarry," he said, coming to stand beside his brother, "or I will be forced to ride on without you." Turning on his heel, he caught Bonnie's eye in the mirror she was cleaning and offered one of his patented Stefan smiles before leaving the room and closing the doors behind him.

From the corner of her eye she noticed Damon's hands fall away from the keys of the piano. Wiping down the surface of the mirror she eyed his reflection warily as he stood from his bench and moved behind her.

He hovered a moment, watching her watch him until, almost shyly, he asked, "Are you very cross with me?"

"What for?"

"For not allowing you to rest when I should have. I have been terribly selfish with you, have I not?"

Affection lapped warmly in her chest and she turned to face him with a small grin. "If I had really wanted to sleep I would have just left you there," she reassured and a tension she hadn't even realized he was holding leaked from his shoulders.

Another yawn tore through her suddenly and she did her best to cover it. She had gotten a second wind when she had first entered the parlor, but she could feel it seeping from her now, leaving her feeling still half asleep.

"My poor Bonnie," Damon cooed softly. Wrapping one hand around her wrist, he pulled gently until her hand fell away from her face and he could place a warm palm against her cheek. Closing her eyes, she leant further into his touch.

_If you were a bed, I'd crawl into you right now,_ she thought sleepily. He was so nice and warm. She bet he'd make an excellent pillow.

"I think it may be best if we kept to ourselves tonight, so you may receive the rest you so rightfully deserve."

She hummed her approval and felt the quick press of his lips to her forehead before he stepped away from her completely. Popping her eyes open, she watched him curiously as he studied her feet.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I... have something for you," he spoke hesitantly. "I had wished to present it to you tonight, but as we will not see one another, it seems apt that I offer it to you now."

She glanced at his pockets warily.

"It's not another bonbon, is it?"

He chuckled in surprise, lifting his gaze to meet hers. "I find your aversion to bonbons delightfully ironic."

"And I find your need to buy me things amazingly annoying," she responded before chastising, "I told you I don't want you spending money on me."

He grinned widely, but refrained from commenting. "Turn around."

"Why?"

"Do you not trust me, Bonnie?"

"Do you really want me answering that question? Think carefully," she teased, but he just motioned with his finger for her to turn around. Letting out an unnecessarily loud breath to illustrate how much of a hassle she felt this all was, she did as she was told.

"Now, close your eyes," he instructed.

"Why?"

Their eyes caught in the mirror and he lifted a pointed brow, reiterating, "Close. Your. Eyes."

She did, but not before rolling them.

"Now what?"

She jumped when his fingertips brushed lightly against her neck as he pushed her hair to the side. Goose-bumps formed a moment later as his fingers were replaced by cool metal sliding across her skin. Knuckles pressed briefly along the nape of her neck as he worked the clasp and then his hands were gone and she was left with a light weight against her chest.

"You may open your eyes now," he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear.

Doing so, Bonnie looked down at the weight and found a small pendant, no bigger than a tear drop, resting against the rough cotton fabric of her dress. It was a white opal stone hanging from an incredibly delicate looking white gold chain. Timidly, she picked it up between two fingers to examine it closer, twisting it one way and then another to see how it caught and reflected all the colours of the morning sun.

"Damon, this is... I've never seen anything – this is incredible." She turned to him suddenly and the way he was looking at her made her blood sing. Taking a deep breath, she shook her head firmly. "You have to return this. I can't accept it."

His eyes drifted over her shoulder, his features going carefully blank in a way that tore at her chest. "May I ask why?" he enquired, his voice neutral.

Stepping forward, she placed a reassuring hand on his chest and felt him stiffen at her touch. "You shouldn't be giving things like this to people like me," she said delicately, hoping he understood. "How much did this cost you?"

Relief washed visibly over him and he melted against her hand, placing his own atop hers. "Is that your only reservation?" he asked, a private smile pulling at his lips. "Then you must accept, for I can honestly say it did not cost me a cent."

Her mouth twisted down in one corner, not really amused with his word play. "Yeah, I'm sure it didn't cost a cent. How many _dollars_ did it cost you?"

His smile widened as he insisted, "None. No money exchanged hands for this necklace."

Her eyebrows rose of their own accord. "You stole it?"

"Bonnie," he exclaimed, genuine shock flashing in his blue irises. "Your lack of faith is astounding. Of course, I didn't steal it."

"Then where did you get it?"

"What does it matter where I got it?"

"It matters to me. Things like this," she lifted the pendant for emphasis, "don't just drop out of the sky."

"Bonnie." He closed the little distance there was between them, bringing his face level with hers. "All you need know is that it was mine, and now it is yours. I bequeath it to you." She made to interrupt but he placed a finger on her lips before she could, and then it suddenly got harder to think so she just concentrated on understanding his words. "I wish for you to have this, and I would be honoured if you would accept it."

His eyes burned into hers as he slowly lowered his hand away from her lips. Through the haze clouding her mind she gradually managed to nod. Tucking the pendant inside her dress for safekeeping she promised, "I'll never take it off."

An emotion Bonnie couldn't place filled Damon's eyes and he closed them, as if looking at her hurt him somehow. "Good," he whispered, leaning forward until his lips found hers. He sighed against her mouth and kissed her slowly, as if he were trying to memorize every sensation as it happened.

It felt like she was being drugged. With every languid sweep of his tongue she felt her mind drift further. If it wasn't for the heat – the electricity sparking in her veins when his fingers ran up her spine, she would think she was dreaming.

But there something at the back of her mind, a nagging worry she couldn't shake or name. It felt like she had forgotten something important.

"Bonnie! I've done –"

Fear spiked through her heart, sharp and potent and pushing every last inch of drowsiness from her, as she and Damon untangled themselves in a rush.

The doors! She had forgotten the fucking doors! How could they have been so careless after last time? How could she have let this happen?

Damon stepped back several feet like that would somehow erase the image they had created seconds before. It wasn't like their flushed faces and erratic breathing were going to help any denials.

Feeling like she was about to throw up, Bonnie slowly turned towards the intruder and found Emily staring back at her, her face unreadable. Panic and dread made a home for themselves in the centre of her chest as she whispered, "Emily."

"What is this?" Emily's voice, much like her features, was completely unreadable.

"It would seem you have found me out, Emily," Damon spoke suddenly, his tone haughty. Bonnie twisted her head to look at him in disbelief. What the hell was he doing?

Damon, his back ramrod straight, shoulders stiff and head held high, continued to speak, "My little perversion... but you would do well to keep this to yourself. What I do with the help is my business and mine alone. Are we understood?"

Bonnie's head spun.

What the _hell_ was he doing? What was he saying? That she was just some kind of sexual perversion for him?

She quickly covered her mouth as her nausea worsened.

She couldn't believe it. She _wouldn't _believe it. Damon wasn't some monster who was only after -

Her breath hitched abruptly as understanding washed over her.

The clever bastard was trying to save their lives.

If the discovery of them together got out it would mean her death and possibly his, but they had a chance of survival if people thought it was rape and not love.

She swallowed harshly as revulsion tried to crawl its way up her throat. Turning to Emily, she saw the same emotion reflected in her ancestor's eyes.

"Of course, Mr. Salvatore," Emily said, bowing her head. Her voice was soft and complacent, but Bonnie could hear the promise of murder underneath it.

"No!" The word tore from the pit of her stomach, forcing her a step forward.

"Girl, watch your tongue," Damon hissed venomously, the only clue to his alarm visible in the widening of his eyes.

"Damon, shut up. You don't know what you're doing," she snapped, panic colouring her words. She focused on Emily who was watching them intently. "He's lying –"

"Girl," he interrupted quickly.

She ignored him and met Emily's stare head on as she confessed, "We've been seeing each other and he's been a perfect gentleman the entire time and he wouldn't _dare_ hurt a hair on my head."

"I see," was Emily's only response. As hard as Bonnie tried she couldn't gage Emily's reaction, she couldn't tell in this moment if she was a friend or a foe... and that scared her the most.

In her periphery she could see Damon inching forward, his hands extended as if to sooth a wild beast. "Emily," he spoke gently, his act abandoned. "Please, I beg of you. Tell not a soul of this. Please. Ask anything of me and it will be yours – Anything! Name any price and I will pay it. All I ask in return is for your silence."

He stopped a few feet away from her, his hands still aloft and starting to shake. "Please, please, please..." he whispered slowly like a mantra and Bonnie felt every one of them reverberate inside of her.

"Rest assured, Mr. Salvatore," Emily finally said, "I will take this to my grave."

Catching Bonnie's gaze over his shoulder, Emily sent her a look she couldn't decipher before quickly bowing and taking her leave.

Bonnie's stomach rolled unpleasantly as she watched her go. She needed to know what that look meant. She needed to know what Emily was thinking.

"Can she be trusted, do you think?" Damon asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

She glanced at Damon and tried to offer a reassuring smile that she was sure failed to reach its mark. "Emily is a friend. I trust her with my life."

And as true as that was she couldn't shake the feeling that she had just discovered the limit to her friend's goodwill.

* * *

Emily was waiting for her in the hallway. With one hard look in Bonnie's direction she began walking down the corridor and Bonnie knew to follow.

They walked in silence all the way to the servant's quarters. Bonnie stayed a few paces behind Emily, her chin tucked against her chest like a scolded child. She couldn't have lifted her head if she tried – heavy as it was with shame and anger and disappointment.

How could she have been so stupid? And after almost being discovered just yesterday!

_Like wow... This is a whole new level of irresponsible, Bonnie,_ she mentally chided.

Maybe if she hadn't been so tired... Maybe if she hadn't felt half asleep... If she had gone to bed when she was supposed to the night before...

Her gut twisted painfully and she felt sick once more.

Emily came to an abrupt stop and Bonnie just managed to catch herself before walking into her ancestor. Glancing up, she noticed they were outside of Emily's room.

Swinging the door ajar forcefully, Emily walked inside and Bonnie quickly followed, shutting the door and leaning heavily against it.

"Explain this." Emily's voice cut through the silence like a whip.

Bonnie squeezed her eyes shut. "I'm sorry. I know you told me not to speak to anyone I knew, but he wouldn't leave me alone and..." she sighed, letting her eyes open and her gaze drift to Emily. "I never intended for this to happen, you have to believe me."

"Must I? When you disregarded my ever word to follow your own whims."

Bonnie opened her mouth to protest only to shut it seconds later, not knowing what to say. Emily stood stock still in front of her, all hard lines and anger – and Bonnie couldn't fault her for any of it.

Her ancestor's already straight back somehow straightened further, her lips pulling down abruptly. "Is this what you made to confess to me? When Miss Katherine first asked me to watch you?"

Sinking her teeth firmly into her bottom lip, Bonnie nodded.

"Does she have knowledge of this affair? Is that the true font of her ire?"

Again, she nodded.

"How long has this transpired?"

She buried her hands in her skirts, fisting the material tightly like she might be able to wring courage from the fabric. "Since I got here," she confessed quietly.

Emily took a sudden step back, a look of such pure shock and betrayal flashing across her features that Bonnie felt disgusted with herself. But, as quickly as the look came, it was replaced with a mask of indifference. "Has this been a jest for you?"

"No!" Bonnie exclaimed, her heart pinching mournfully in her chest. She made to step forward, but stopped under Emily's steel gaze.

"Every lie I had told; every risk I had taken to ensure your safety... and you willfully played with both our lives... with your very existence, time and again."

"No." She shook her head emphatically, blinking against the threatening sting of her eyes. "It's not like that."

But wasn't it? Hadn't she done exactly that?

Guilt ran its gluttonous tongue along her ribs and she blinked harder. "I swear, I never meant for this to happen. I swear," she insisted.

"Well I suppose it makes little matter now," Emily spoke cryptically.

Bonnie stopped breathing. "What do you mean?"

Emily stepped slowly to the side and Bonnie's focus was drawn to the floor. Or more accurately, to the circle of salt and candles in the centre of the room.

"What is that?" she asked, even though she knew exactly what it was. With every fibre of her being she knew and her heart cried in protest.

"It is why I came in search of you," Emily said softly. "I have completed the spell."

The words echoed hollowly between Bonnie's ears for a long moment. "You're sending me back."

"You do not belong here, Bonnie."

"I know," she said, the tears she had managed to keep at bay spilling over and burning their way down her cheeks. She wiped at them angrily. "But I'm not ready yet."

"The longer you remain here, the more as like you will upset the future. As you have already proven yourself apt in that regard, I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to linger. My duty as a witch forbids it."

"No, Emily," she stumbled over her words, moving closer to her ancestor who eyed her guardedly. "I can't leave. Not like this. He won't understand. He'll think something's happened to me. He'll blame himself. I can't – I can't leave!"

"Damon Salvatore is no longer your concern," Emily stated firmly.

"No." The word fell forcefully from her lips as desperation began flooding her lungs. She had to make her understand!

Her hands latched onto Emily's arms and she squeezed. Beyond the slight widening of her eyes, her ancestor seemed unmoved by this display. "Emily, please. _Please_," she begged.

She didn't even know what she was begging for. A life here in 1864 with Damon? To have just a few more hours with him? A few more days? To never be separated from him as long as they both lived?

"This goes beyond your simple wants and desires, Bonnie. I must restore the balance that you so recklessly destroyed."

"_Emily, please_," she repeated, her voice breaking as she struggled to remain coherent. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, he just... he kept showing up and I hated him. I hated him so much. He's so annoying and stubborn and he... he makes me happy. I've never been so happy in my life – I didn't even know it was possible. _Please_, _I_ – I can't leave like this! I can't - He loves me... He loves me even though Katherine is here and he should love her and he made Stefan help us send letters to each other when he –"

"Stefan?" Emily cut her off abruptly, her brow creasing. "You conversed with Stefan as well?"

_Damn it, Bonnie!_

Swallowing harshly, she closed her eyes and answered honestly, "Only a little."

"Incredible," Emily whispered with a short, humourless laugh.

"Emily –"

"No, Bonnie," she said so definitively, Bonnie was forced to pry her eyes open and look at her stern face. "No more. It is high time you returned from whence you came."

Emily took a step toward the circle in the centre of the room and Bonnie's grip on her arms tightened instinctively in response. "No, wait – Emily, please – I love him!"

The words ripped from her, torn from some secret place deep inside, but as soon as she said it, she knew it was true. She loved him.

The hard lines of Emily's features softened as she studied her. She sounded sad, but resigned when she reaffirmed, "You do not belong here."

Bonnie had run out of words. All that was left to her was the salt on her checks and tongue as she cried uselessly. She wanted to be stronger than this; she wanted to know what to say to make Emily change her mind; she wanted to know how not to care about her broken heart...

"You may say your farewells. I will allow you this small courtesy," Emily said so quietly, Bonnie almost didn't hear. "But, Bonnie, you must return within the hour or I will come for you... and you will not like it if I do."

* * *

Bonnie ran to the stables. She ran faster than she had ever done before in her life – the wind whipping at her hair, stinging her eyes and cooling the remnants of the tears on her cheeks.

The stable boys startled when she burst in. Some of the horses did as well, but Bonnie paid them no mind, her eyes scanning the stalls and landing on Damon's white mare.

Her chest relaxed and she struggled to catch her breath as she mentally raced through the list of places where Damon would be, relieved that he hadn't gone riding with Stefan after all.

She imagined he was still rattled from this morning and a rattled Damon wouldn't want to be anywhere public, so the grounds where crossed out. He liked to drink when he was upset, but she somehow doubted he'd still be in the parlor. He loved the library, but anyone could walk in there at any time... so no to that.

The only place that would really offer him privacy was...

His room! Of course.

Spinning around, she sprinted back towards the manor. Coming to a stop at the servant's entrance, she took a moment to get her breathing under control. If she was going to Damon's room she couldn't afford to draw attention to herself. She couldn't be conspicuous in any way.

Forcing herself to take her time, she made the long trek through the servant's hall, up the stairwell and into the main house on the second floor.

A girl was cleaning in the hallway.

Shit.

Keeping her head down, Bonnie moved past her towards the door beside the main staircase. Shooting a covert glance in the girl's direction – who appeared to be minding her own business – Bonnie took a deep breath and knocked.

"I asked not to be disturbed," Damon's voice sounded from inside the room.

"I..." She glanced again at the girl and thought quickly. "I have a message for you, Mr. Salvatore, from the chef about... bacon."

She internally cringed. Why had they never come up with a better signal? If she were there under different circumstances she might have been amused by the ludicrousness of it, but, right now, it felt like salt on an open wound.

There was a long pause before he finally said, "Come in."

Entering the room quickly, she shut the door firmly behind her.

He stood across from her, looking an absolute wreck. His hair was sticking out in every angle, like he had been running his hands through it nonstop; his skin was unusually pale; his eyes suspiciously red rimmed.

But even now she couldn't help but find him beautiful.

The silence stretched as both of them treaded in their uncertainties.

"Bonnie," he eventually sighed, "Forgive me. It was not my intention to kiss you. If I had been a stronger man – If I had not been half so greedy for your affection... If I had used any sense at all..." He bowed his head. "Forgive me."

"I'm just as much to blame for what happened as you are. I forgot to lock the doors," she admitted, stepping further into the room.

He glanced at her tentatively, unsure of himself and Bonnie bit her lip hard to divert her attention from the pain steadily building in her chest.

"Emily...?" he probed gently.

"Emily won't tell," she assured.

"That is a relief. And yet," he began cautiously, his brow knitted as he considered her intently, "you remain troubled."

_Now, Bonnie. You have to do it now._

Forcing a shaky breath past her lips, she folded her arms tightly in front of her as if to herself guard from what was to come next.

"I'm leaving," she somehow managed to say.

"Leaving?" he repeated uncomprehendingly.

"To go home."

He stared at her a long moment, trying to understand. Finally he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, "Am I to blame? Have I chased you away?"

"No," she rushed to reassure him, moving forward only to catch herself before she reached him. This would be easier if she kept her distance. "We both knew I was going to leave. I told you."

"I had forgotten," he admitted reluctantly, his fists clenching at air by his sides. "When do you depart?"

The word cut her tongue before falling from her mouth. "Today."

His eyes snapped to hers, wide and disbelieving. "So soon? Can you not tarry a day or two?"

Unable to speak, her throat tight with threatening tears, she shook her head.

"And... will you return?"

He sounded so hopeful; Bonnie wanted to die. A treacherous tear slipped past her defenses and she swiped it roughly away, shaking her head once more.

He stepped back, as if physically struck. "You mean to part form me? Forever...?"

"If there were any other way, I would take it," she professed earnestly.

"There is," he responded swiftly, his voice so confident she was convinced he knew something she didn't. He shortened the space between them until he stood directly in front of her, his eyes burning; somehow both desperate and determined. "We can run away."

Disappointment swirled in her stomach and she tried not to let it reflect on her face. There was nowhere they could go that Emily wouldn't find them. Her ancestor's final warning still echoed in her head. "We couldn't. Where would we go? There isn't anywhere safe for us... and if someone were to catch us traveling together, alone..."

She didn't need to finish the sentence; he frowned in understanding. "Fine then..." She could see the cogs turning as he wracked his brain for a new idea. The blue of his eyes brightened when he found one and he countered stubbornly, "I shall come with you. To Canada."

"What?"

"It's so simple. I cannot believe I didn't think of it sooner," he said, a smile crossing his lips for the first time since this morning. "In Canada we will be free to carve out any life we should desire."

He took off abruptly, moving about the room at a rapid pace. Picking random items up and assessing them before either tossing them on the bed or setting them back down, he continued to speak, "I'll gather anything of worth to sell once we cross the border; from there, anything is possible. We can marry and I'll purchase a small plot of land – a cottage perhaps? In the country? Or mayhap the city would be more affordable. It would certainly allow for more opportunities for employment..."

Bonnie's head spun as she watched him race around the room, her breath coming in shallow puffs and leaving her lightheaded.

"Whatever we decide, it won't be much, but it will be something... and it will be ours. Of course, we will have to wait a year or two before we can have any children –"

Her already splintered heart shattered neatly into a thousand pieces and she cried in earnest, her frame shaking with the effort.

Damon stopped in his tracks, turning to her in surprise. "Bonnie?"

An embarrassingly loud sob escaped her and she buried her face in her hands to muffle any more that might try the same.

His warm arms enveloped her instantly, pulling her close. He ran one hand soothingly along her back and she allowed herself to be comforted for the briefest of moments.

"What is the matter?" his voice sounded from beside her temple.

She sank further into him, muttering against her palms, "You can't come with me."

Somehow he managed to hear her despite the impediment. "Of course I can. There is nothing here for me."

She lifted her face away from her hands. "There's Stefan."

"Stefan will understand."

God, why did he have to be so wonderfully stubborn? Why couldn't he just accept the fact that they couldn't be together? Why did he have to make this so hard?

An unexpected flash of frustration ran through her and she pushed forcibly out of his arms.

"You can't come with me," she bit out, tears still falling freely down her cheeks even as she fought to put a lid on her anguish. "It's impossible."

He looked wounded, and then his eyes narrowed and his cheeks flushed. "I could," he protested obstinately, "but perhaps the truth is that you do not wish me to."

"No," she snapped, exasperated. "Where I'm going, you can't follow."

"As long as you remain on this Earth, I can follow," he hissed, taking the necessary two steps to place himself in front of her. "And I can certainly travel to Canada whether you will it or not."

"I'm not from Canada!" she shouted, temper flaring.

His brow crumpled, anger momentarily forgotten. "Pardon?"

Bonnie ran a tired hand over her wet, tear stained features, and released a thin, shaky laugh. Today had been so fucked up – why not ruin it some more, right?

But maybe this was a good thing... Maybe, this way, he would finally understand.

"Bonnie?"

Letting her hand drop back to her side, she took a deep breath and said as calmly as possible, so as not to sound like a crazy person, "I'm from the future. A hundred and fifty years or so."

He went absolutely still. "I don't understand."

"You know I'm a witch, right?"

He didn't make any kind of response, but it was a rhetorical question anyways so she continued, "Well I cast this time traveling spell – I only meant to go back a couple of months, but for some reason I ended up here. Since I got here Emily has been trying to help me get back home – Emily is a witch by the way, and my ancestor."

His eyes widened, but he kept silent, waiting for her to carry on.

"Long story short, the spell I used to get here had yet to be created so I was kind of trapped until Emily and I could figure out a way to create the spell, which she did. Today. Which is why you can't come with me... and why I can't stay."

She inched just a little closer to him. Close enough to feel his warmth, close enough to touch, but she kept her hands to herself. "Do you understand now? It's not because I don't want you with me, it's just..."

"Impossible," he finished for her quietly."Then... this is truly goodbye?"

Her breath hitched awkwardly in her throat and she ducked her head, using her hair to shield him from her weeping.

Bonnie hated crying in front of people. It didn't matter if they were friends or family, she hated placing her pain on other people – making it something they had to deal with. But Damon refused to be shielded from her sorrow.

Placing a hand under her chin, he forced her head up and used the edge of his sleeve to wipe gently at her cheeks. He looked as broken as she felt, his eyes dim and lifeless. "If there is a way, Bonnie, I will find you again."

If he kept saying shit like that she was never going to stop crying.

She needed to get a hold of herself. There were things she still needed to tell him. If she was going to leave him, she wanted him as safe as possible. She closed her eyes, laying her hand against his to still his movements. "There's something you should know... about Katherine."

"Katherine?"

Opening her eyes, she met his confused gaze straight on. "She's not human. She's a vampire. Do you know what that is?"

"A creature of the night that feasts on the blood of mortals to live for all of eternity," he answered easily, his features still scrunched as he tried to comprehend her. "But Katherine walks in the light of day. How could she be a vampire?"

"She has a piece of jewelry that allows her to pass for human. But she's not and she's extremely dangerous." She felt his pulse spike underneath her thumb. "I don't want you to be afraid of her; I just... I want you to be careful. Okay?"

He nodded, but she could see in his eyes that he was still processing. "Are there any other mythical creatures running about Mystic Falls that I should know of?"

She shook her head, worrying her bottom lip and removing his hand from her cheek so that she could hold it in hers. She stared at that hand for a long time, until eventually, she said, "I want you to promise me something."

He brought himself forward until his forehead rested against hers. "Anything," he whispered, breath fanning along her skin.

She pulled back far enough to look him in the eye. This might be the last time she got the chance.

"Promise me th – " The words stuck in her throat and she squeezed his hand for strength. "Promise me," she tried again and this time it came a little easier, "that you'll remember this feeling. That you'll remember what it feels like –" she took a deep breath to steady herself. She would not cry again – "what it feels like to be loved by someone... and that you won't settle for anything less than this. Because I love you, Damon and I want you to be happy."

"I..." He struggled, seemingly at a loss. His eyes roved over her rapidly and she could see him stranded somewhere between joy and anguish. Almost in the blink of an eye, his jaw hardened and a curious spark entered his baby blues. "I promise you, I will not rest until I have this feeling once more. I will fight to find it again... and I will never settle."

A sense of foreboding trailed down Bonnie's spine, her lips tugging into a frown. "Don't do anything stupid," she cautioned.

"Now you ask the impossible of me, Bonnie." He smiled and it was beautiful and wild.

And frightening.

* * *

Her time was up.

Untangling herself from Damon took some effort. Protesting gently, he tugged her back to him anytime she attempted to pull away, his lips falling on any inch of exposed skin they could reach and driving her to distraction.

Eventually she managed to peel away long enough to make it to the door. Cracking it open, she peeked outside to find the hallway empty.

Damon was immediately behind her, one arm wrapping around her waist while the other hand pushed her curls to the side so he could access her neck. He nipped lightly and she sighed, twisting in his arms to steal his lips.

_This will be the last one_, she thought, not for the first time, as she ran her fingers over the surprisingly sculpted muscles of his abdomen and he hummed his approval.

Breaking the kiss, she whispered, "I have to go."

He kissed her jaw, the underside of her jaw, her neck... muttering all the while, "If this is the last I have of you... then allow me just... a moment longer."

She would not cry. She was done crying.

Blinking harshly, she answered, "We're out of moments."

His arms tensed suddenly and he buried his face further in her neck. "Bonnie." His voice cracked and she felt something cold and wet land against her collar. Neither of them moved. She held him tightly and thought she might never let go.

* * *

Bonnie stood inside the salt circle feeling like her heart had been cut from her chest and left somewhere to bleed out.

And it wasn't even noon yet.

At the very least she had gotten to say goodbye to him. At the very least he knew that she loved him. She could take solace in that.

But there was one other thing she needed to ensure before she could leave with any sense of peace. Something that she needed to ask Emily to do; not that she had any right to ask anything more of Emily, but she couldn't leave without trying.

Glancing at her ancestor mixing together the necessary elements for the spell, Bonnie took a deep breath. "Emily..."

"Yes," she replied, not bothering to look away from her task.

"I need you to promise you'll keep Damon away from Katherine."

Emily made no response, continuing to crush and mix the ingredients until they made a paste. Had she not heard her?

"Em-"

"No," Emily said, rising to her feet with the newly made paste and stepping towards Bonnie. She dipped a finger into the concoction and smeared it along Bonnie's forehead.

"Look, I know Katherine is your employer and you have some kind of weird relationship, but please – if she gets her hooks into Damon she will destroy him."

"You misunderstand me, Bonnie. I will not intervene on your behalf. You have trifled enough." Emily moved away, placing the mortar and pestle on her writing desk and exchanging it for her grimoire.

"But Emily –"

"When you take your leave of this place, I intend to cast a spell. It will erase any trace of your existence from the lives you have touched whilst here –"

"No!" Bonnie exclaimed, horror lancing through her. She made to leave the circle, but Emily, one step ahead, already had her hand lifted to stop her.

Bonnie felt her muscles contracting painfully up her legs and arms, locking her into place. She struggled against her paralysis, but the more she attempted to move, the stiffer her muscles became.

"It will be as if you never were," Emily continued informing her somberly, "It was the only way I could conceive to ensure that events remain unaltered."

"No, Emily, please... don't do this."

One by one, the candles in the circle were lit.

"All memories of you will be forgotten and life will proceed as intended."

"Emily, _please_," she pleaded uselessly, over and over and over again.

Trapped motionless in the heart of the salt circle, Bonnie watched helplessly as Emily's lips formed the words to send her home.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Please don't hate me! I've been planning to do this from the very beginning. Since chapter one. I know this was probably quite painful to read, but it needed to get done. Bonnie couldn't stay in the past forever. And don't worry, I'm a big believer in happy endings so everything will work itself out in the end - we're only at the half way point. I still have like eight to ten chapters planned. Still plenty of story to tell!**

**Emily was kind of merciless in this chapter, but she loves Bonnie. Her part in this story isn't quite done yet, so try not to hate on her too much either. I hope you guys aren't too upset and that you'll stick with me till the end!**


	17. Unprepared

**Disclaim! I own nothing.**

**This chapter was extremely difficult to write. I almost completed it and then decided to rewrite the entire thing and I'm not sure how I feel about the final product other than _nervous_. I'm extremely nervous to find out what you all think. I know some of you might be disappointed, but I really hope not. I hope you like it.**

**As some of you may already know, I'm putting together a playlist for this story. It's mainly for the second half and not every chapter will have a corresponding song, but it's a little added bonus. The first two songs on the playlist dealt with the first half of the story. They were _Up All Night_ by Oliver Tank and _How'm I Supposed to Die _by Civil Twilight. The song for this chapter is _Home_ by Daughter. I'll be posting it on Tumblr later today.**

**FFT - We are no longer dealing with Human Damon (I know, I'm sad too). It's Vampire Damon's turn and this Damon won't be as easy to love or as open as we've come to expect. He's seen a lot of things and done a lot things and it's had an effect on him, but does that mean he's a completely different person...?**

* * *

The room seemed to shift before Bonnie's eyes. Emily faded, the walls molded and old wood paneling poked through the plaster, the ceiling concaved at the centre, the glass in the window shattered in some places and disappeared entirely in others.

It was like watching a time-lapse of the room decaying. All the life that was once present emptied, leaving it looking abandoned and strangely hollow.

Bonnie blinked and everything stopped. Dust hung heavy in the air around her and layered thickly over the few remaining items in the room.

The wood made a startled noise in protest as her legs gave way and she slumped heavily to the ground.

Emily had actually done it.

She was back.

Or... was she?

There was a chance Emily had gotten something wrong – sent her to the wrong time.

Heart beating a little faster, she glanced around the room, but there was no way to tell what year it was. There was a twisted, broken iron bed frame in one corner and a dilapidated writing table in another – both completely filthy and covered in cobwebs. Neither of which gave her any clues as to when she was.

Her best course of action would be to head to town and find a newspaper or something, but...

She traced a finger absently through the dust lining the floor and bit her lip.

If she left, that was it. It would truly be over. She'd really have to let go of everything she'd had.

Pushing her teeth harder into her lip, she lifted a shaky hand to her dress and unbuttoned it slowly – far enough that she could reach the letters she had tucked inside. She was grateful she had taken the time to retrieve them before heading to Emily's room for the last time.

Placing them gently on the ground, she flattened them with the palm of her hand and let her fingers skim across the pulpy fabric of the paper.

She admired the soft curls of his _G_s and the strong strokes of his _T_s and her heart squeezed painfully in her chest.

_I miss our talks... _Her fingers traced ..._my imaginings could never compare to the reality of you..._

"What happened to you?" she asked, her mind racing with endless possibilities. Had he fallen into Katherine's arms as soon as she'd left? Or had it been too late for that? How much longer did Katherine have before she was 'thrown in the tomb?' Did he manage to avoid her corruption and live a full human life?

Was he dead now? Buried somewhere in the old Mystic cemetery...

A tear slipped passed her cheek and landed with a soft _tap_ on Damon's letter, splotching some of the words. Bonnie cursed under her breath and dapped at the spot with her sleeve but it only blurred them further.

"No," she cried, pushing the papers away from her as the tears fell harder. Burying her face in her hands she allowed herself this one moment. There was no one here she had to be strong for.

* * *

Eventually she gathered enough strength to venture outside and begin ambling towards town. She had travelled there by foot so many times that, at the very least, she knew which direction to head in.

Taking a peek over her shoulder, she paused.

The Salvatore Manor stood behind her, a shadow of its former glory. Its imposing white columns were now discoloured and overrun with ivy – like much of the rest of the house. Its roof was caved in at more than one place. Its grounds were overgrown and riddled with shrubbery.

The stables were nowhere to be seen, Bonnie noticed with a corresponding twinge.

Frowning, she squared her shoulders and started forward. She needed to concentrate on the present, not the past.

Walking at a steady pace she began formulating her next step.

As soon as she got to town she'd have to find today's date. Then she'd either have to figure out a way home with no money and dressed like she'd just participated in the Founder's Day parade or... Well, hopefully she was far enough in the future that she could turn to her Grams for help if worse came to worst.

She had been walking for a good twenty minutes when she heard the sound of distant traffic. Pausing, she twisted in the direction of the noise and attempted to peer through the trees.

If there was a road up there, it wasn't visible from where she was standing. Nonetheless, she decided to check it out - and it wasn't long before the trees thinned to nothing and she was greeted with pavement.

Walking carefully just outside of the shoulder, she followed the road and kept her eyes peeled for oncoming traffic. A few minutes passed with nothing in either direction until the wind from a speeding vehicle almost knocked her off her feet.

Peering after them, Bonnie felt a fraction of the tension she was carrying leak away. She had never been so relieved to see a generic Toyota Corolla in all her life, and she wasn't well versed in cars, but she was positive that make was from the 2000s, so at least she was in the right century.

She continued on for several more minutes, watching the spattering of cars speed by cautiously and calculating how much further she had to go when someone honked and began to pull over beside her.

Coming to a stop, she glanced over her shoulder and felt her heart still at the sight of the familiar blue Camaro.

It couldn't be, could it…?

The window closest to her rolled down and her feet, as if moving of their own volition, inched forward. Electric blue eyes and a drawn brow greeted her and she stumbled to a halt.

It was.

He was here. He was alive.

"Bonnie?"

A surge of relief rushed through her and concentrated in her chest where it burned brightly.

"Damon," she whispered, leaning forward and searching his gaze for any sign of recognition, but he just stared back in confusion.

"What the hell are you wearing?"

Her heart plummeted to her stomach, leaving her suddenly cold, and she ducked her head to mask her disappointment.

"Do I want to know why you're dressed like you just came from Pioneer Village?"

Feeling her throat tighten, she simply shook her head. Eyes glued to the way the Camaro's tires hugged the road she listened to Damon's leather jacket as it rubbed against his seat.

"You… okay?"

Forcing a deep breath into her lungs, hands fisting by her side, she lifted her gaze just high enough to meet his and nodded, making sure to keep her features neutral.

His lips twisted down as he continued to scrutinize her closely. He tapped a senseless rhythm on his steering wheel, his focus shifting out the front windshield and then back to her. "You sure about that?"

Nodding her head again, she managed a tight lipped smile for good measure, though it felt like her insides were shredding the higher she tilted her lips.

Looking less than convinced, he nodded absently in response.

They stayed like that for far too long, with Bonnie watching as Damon hovered uncertainly in his Camaro, until he finally broke the strained silence. "I was going to offer you a ride, but…" he shrugged, his indecisiveness shedding away like an old snake skin, "the last time we saw each other you set me on fire, so… have fun walking."

With that he put his car in drive and peeled away.

Bonnie's legs went limp and she crumpled onto the graveled shoulder. The tiny stones were unforgiving, even through the layers of her dress, but she could barely feel them, eyes fastened on Damon's taillights as he disappeared around the bend – her heart breaking all over again.

Emily's spell was flawless. He didn't remember…

A quiet sob wracked her frame and she struggled to get a grip on herself. She was tired of breaking down. It seemed like all she'd done today was cry and she had officially reached her quota. Crying would solve nothing.

The worst was over. She had seen him; she knew what to expect now. The next time would be easier.

She had to believe that or she'd never survive.

Wiping roughly at her cheeks, she gulped air into her lungs in steady intervals until her sobs quieted. Then, getting shakily to her legs, she gazed sightlessly ahead and walked.

* * *

She couldn't have been walking for more than ten minutes when Damon's Camaro appeared around the bend headed in her direction. He stopped the car abruptly, rolling down his window and glaring at her. "Get in the car."

Her pulse sped up as she looked at him. "What?"

"I don't know what's going on with you and frankly, I don't really care, but I'll be damned if you wind up dead in a ditch, so just get in the car before I change my mind and leave you here," he snapped.

"I'd rather walk," she replied honestly. The very idea of being in an enclosed space with Damon was too much to process. She wasn't ready for that.

His eyes widened, lips pursing together in a hard, thin line. "Get in the fucking car, Bonnie."

"I'm fine," she insisted, turning back to the road ahead of her. She took two steps and he was blocking her path, legs planted shoulder width apart and arms crossed over his chest. She squeezed her eyes shut to erase the image. "Please. This is hard enough as it is."

"Why does everything have to be so difficult with you?"

"I'm not trying to be difficult."

"Then stop fighting me all the time!"

Her eyes popped open. They felt raw and puffy from all the crying and she could feel the threatening sting of more tears on the way. She was standing on the edge of a precipice, a thin piece of land barely wide enough for both her feet, and below her was the raging sea of her own emotions. She had lost count of the number of times she had fallen from her precarious perch today and into the waves below, but she couldn't afford to anymore. Not like this; not in front of Damon.

As if the true depth of her emotional frailty was reflected on her features, his irritation dissipated. Attention traveling carefully to a non-existent point over her shoulder, he frowned and went unnaturally still for a long moment before releasing a heavy breath. "Come on. I'm taking you home," he reiterated quietly.

Not bothering to see if she would follow, he crossed to his Camaro and got back in.

She looked towards town, debating. She was only twenty or so minutes away if she picked up the pace. But once she got there she'd have to find a way to get home. She didn't have any money for the bus or a cab… She might be able to stop at The Grille and bum a ride off Matt. What time was it? What day was it? Would he even be there?

A honk – loud and abrupt – startled her from her thoughts and her head snapped to face the Camaro. Damon frowned, crooking a finger. "Today, Bonnie."

Shoulders slumping under the weight of her defeat, she trudged over.

* * *

They drove to her house in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Bonnie kept her eyes locked on the passing scenery to her right. It was easier to pretend she was in the car with someone else if she didn't have to see Damon in her periphery.

She just needed time to process everything that had happened. Once she put everything into perspective she'd be able to decide how she wanted to move forward, but until then…

Shutting her eyes, she adjusted herself in her seat until she could rest her head against the cool glass of her window.

This had to be the longest day of her life.

* * *

_They were resting under their tree. The sun streamed down between the oak's leaves in splattered patterns of gold and gray and Bonnie sighed, pillowing her head lightly on Damon's shoulder._

"_If my every day were spent in such a fashion, I should think I had lead a fruitful life indeed," Damon said softly._

_She laughed lightly. "We've done nothing, but sit here all day."_

"_Precisely, and I am all the better for it."_

"_What do you get out of it?"_

"_The pleasure of your company," he whispered, tracing his nose along the shell of her ear._

"_Other than that," she smiled._

"_I want for nothing else."_

_She leaned further into him, her smile spreading. He was such a charmer._

_Twisting her head to tell him as much, she screamed. Heart pumping wildly in her chest, she scrambled away from him – legs tangling in her dress as she rushed to get to her feet._

_Damon reached out to steady her, his black veined eyes wide in surprise. "What is the matter?"_

_She was frozen, staring at the blood, wet and glistening, around his mouth._

_Finding her voice, she ripped away from him. "What happened to you?"_

"_Nothing. I am as I ever was." When he spoke she glimpsed his elongated canines._

"_No," she stumbled further away, shaking her head, "no. What _happened_ to you?"_

_He went unnaturally still, his head cocking to one side as he examined her. The movement was strangely bird-like. "I fail to take your meaning."_

_She held out a mirror for him to see himself. He blinked slowly at his reflection, bored and unsurprised by what he saw. Looking past the mirror to her, he said again, "I am as I ever was."_

"_Can't you see that you've changed?"_

"_How? Do I not bleed as I always have?" He tore into his wrist with his fangs to demonstrate. Crimson flowed over his wound and down his arm soaking through his shirt. "Do I no longer drown my woes? Am I not still easily vexed?" He smirked a little as he continued, "Do I no longer make you laugh? When I kiss you, are you unmoved? Does my heart not belong to only you?"_

_He reached within his chest and pulled it out to show her. Carved into the still flesh was Elena._

_Her hand swung up, slapping the offensive object away, shock and betrayal rippling through her all the while. The heart landed by Lenore, who bent her long neck and scooped it in her mouth. Damon looked at her with wide red tinted eyes._

"_Why would you cast my heart aside?"_

"_I miss you," she confessed, feeling the ache of her loneliness deep inside of her._

"_Miss me?" he echoed, brow rumpling as he stepped forward and erased the distance between them. "Whatever for?" He lowered his face until it hovered inches away from hers. "I've always been here for the taking."_

_He placed her hand upon his chest and pushed it through his flesh until she could feel his heart. Closing her fist around it, she pulled and, this time, it bore her name._

_Tugging him down, she crushed her lips to his. She couldn't taste it or feel it, but she was aware she was getting blood in her mouth – she didn't care. She kissed him with everything she had and, holding her close, he kissed her back in kind._

_And then they were sitting under their tree again. She felt warm and content and loved to such a degree it seemed to fill her very soul._

"_I've bought you a gown for the ball," Damon told her._

"_I can't go to the ball." She'd get in trouble._

"_The ball is in your honour. You must attend."_

A firm shake to her shoulder made her reluctantly pry her heavy eyes open.

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. We've arrived," Damon teased from beside her.

Still feeling warm and content and loved, her lips curled and she hummed softly in appreciation as she gave herself a little stretch. "Can't we just stay here? I'd rather spend my time with you."

"What?"

Suddenly alert, she turned slowly to find a very modern looking Damon Salvatore watching her in confusion.

Eyes widening, she played dumb. "What?"

His gaze narrowed, one corner of his lips twisting up as he leaned forward. "You want to spend some time with me, Bonnie?"

"No!" she exclaimed, aiming for appalled but landing somewhere closer to alarmed. Reaching blindly behind her, she grasped the door handle and pushed. It jerked under the pressure, but stayed shut. Trying not to panic, she pushed harder and again it gave nothing but a little a jerk. "Why isn't this opening?"

Amusement plain in his clear blue eyes, he leaned a fraction closer and whispered conspiratorially, "You might want to try unlocking it first."

Heat flooding her, she grimaced. "Right."

Turning, she unlocked the door and made a hasty exit.

"What? No thank you?" he shouted after her.

Not bothering to face him, she lifted a hand in acknowledgement. "Bye," she answered pointedly.

* * *

Bonnie felt some of the tension roll off her at the sound of Damon's Camaro pulling away. Reaching just under her collar, her fingers wrapped around the delicate chain resting there. Tugging it out from under the scratchy fabric she rolled the tear drop stone between her fingers, studying the way it refracted the sunlight.

Fisting the tiny pendant, she closed her eyes.

The remnants of her dream had faded, but Bonnie had taken something away from it. A sense of purpose.

Damon was here. He was alive. As long as those two things were true there was a chance he would remember; there was a chance the spell could be broken.

There had to be a counter spell out there somewhere, right?

Bonnie had never been a passive person. She wasn't about to lie down and accept her fate without a fight. If there was a way to fix this, she would find it.

_Okay, first things first, _she thought with a new determination. Opening her eyes, she faced her house. _I need to figure out a way inside._

She and her father were too cautious to keep spare keys lying around, so unfortunately this wouldn't be straightforward. She quickly contemplated climbing the willow tree in the backyard to reach her bedroom window when she remembered that she was a witch.

Laughing at herself, she gave her head a little shake and mentally ran through the list of spells she knew. Lifting her hand, she hesitated.

There was a chance her father was inside. There was a chance _she_ was inside. Or worse, both of them at once. What would she do if faced with her double?

But what were her options? Where could she go if she couldn't go home?

She still wasn't even sure exactly _when_ she was, though she now had a better idea. Damon had mentioned her setting him on fire, so it could be any time after that.

_This is getting ridiculous! Just rip the Band-Aid off, Bonnie, and see what you're dealing with,_ she thought, frustrated, and concentrating her energy on the door, she sent it flying open.

Stepping into the foyer she looked cautiously around, but saw no signs of life. Keeping her eyes peeled for any trace of her father's presence or her own, she headed towards her room and, crossing the threshold, froze.

There was a salt circle and five slightly melted candles lying undisturbed on her bedroom floor, and in the centre of that circle were a forgotten mortar and pestle and her grimoire.

She moved around the circle and made a beeline for her phone on the nightstand. The screen glowed a bright _10:34 AM, Friday, April 4__th_ in greeting.

Bonnie's head spun.

She had been prepared to come back months before she had ever done the spell. She had been prepared to come back months after… But a day…?

She had left on April 3rd.

She couldn't remember the exact time, maybe around five or six.

She shook her head in incomprehension.

She'd been gone for little more than twelve hours in total. It was like she'd never left at all.

Emily had asked her a few questions about the day she did the spell in her attempts to create it. Bonnie hadn't thought much of it considering Emily shied away from specifics, but she now understood her ancestor's intentions.

Emily had managed to return Bonnie late enough that she had no awkward encounter's with herself and early enough that her presence had no time to be missed. Bonnie imagined this was not a happy accident. Emily's talents were truly something to be admired.

"_**No offense, but you're no Emily Bennett."**_ Damon's disparaging words from so long ago echoed in her head now.

_You can say that again…_ Bonnie agreed darkly.

* * *

After an excessively long, hot shower, Bonnie settled under her blankets with her grimoire. Leaning back against the pile of fluffy pillows, she sighed contentedly and began sifting through the worn pages.

Losing track of time, she didn't raise her head until she spotted her phone lighting up on the bedside table from the corner of her eye. With one hand still flipping through pages, the other grasped her phone. Unlocking it absently, she tossed the phone a glance and noticed two unread texts.

Paying more attention now, she opened her messages. They were both from Elena.

_Where are you? You okay? – 9:20 AM_

_You still helping to prep for the masq tomorrow? – 12:11 PM_

She stared blankly at the second text for a full minute, trying to place its meaning, before groaning.

She had forgotten all about the stupid masquerade she was supposed to be helping with. Was that really tomorrow?

She bit her lip and contemplated saying no. She didn't really feel like participating in any asinine group activities right now.

Chucking her phone aside for the time being, she refocused on the book on her lap. Flicking through a few more pages, she paused then flipped back, then forward and then back again.

There was a page that looked thicker than the others, like two pages stuck together. Had it always been like that? How had she never noticed? Tracing the perimeter of the page with her fingers, she searched for an opening. Her nail caught the edge of a pocket of air and, carefully, she slid her nail like a letter opener along the rim of the paper. It eased apart with little effort.

She blinked, brow creasing.

The pages were blank. There was nothing there except a scrap piece of paper.

Picking it up, she examined it closely. There wasn't much to see other than a single line of print. She recognized the elegant script as Emily's but the words were in Latin.

_In __a pulsu cordis__._

Frowning, she grabbed her phone and hit up Google translate.

The words, _in the beat of a heart,_ stared innocently back at her and her stomach dropped.

Was this some kind of sick joke?

Balling the tiny scrap of paper in her hand, she set it aflame. She didn't flinch away from the scorching heat at the centre of her palm; instead she kept her gaze locked on the ball of fire as she remembered her last conversation with Emily before her ancestor discovered her relationship with Damon.

Those words had proven to be an empty promise.

The flame died away, leaving nothing but hot ash in its wake and Bonnie moved to the bathroom to wash it off. Watching as the grey residue clung stubbornly to the sides of her porcelain sink, she wondered if she'd made a mistake.

Everything inside of her pointed to that note being left for her to find. Emily was a lot of things, but cruel wasn't really one of them. There must have been a reason she left that message…

_If that's her way of apologizing, I don't accept._

Lips pursed, she reached forward with clean hands to scrub the grey matter away.

* * *

Bonnie shifted the box of candles she was carrying carefully in her arms as she scanned the area for the appropriate table. There were supposed to be sliver candelabras somewhere around here…

Spotting the table a few feet away, her eyes landed on Elena and she paused, studying her friend discretely. After spending four months with Katherine it was disorienting seeing her oldest friend and having to gauge whether or not it was actually her.

There was something inherently different about Elena from Katherine, a certain way she held herself and interacted with the world that reassured Bonnie that this was, in fact, her best friend. There were no pretences with Elena.

Bonnie bit her lip as she wondered, not for the first time today, if she was truly ready to face everyone.

_Too late,_ she thought as their gazes caught and Elena crossed the rest of the way to meet her.

Bonnie started forward once more, placing the box gently on the table.

"You're here," Elena offered as greeting, automatically beginning to unpack the candles.

"I'm here," she responded, her focus drifting behind Elena and off to the side, instinctively searching for a flash of dark hair and blue eyes.

She had managed to find a memory spell after hours of searching. Technically it was meant for simple things like misplaced car keys or to help remember your anniversary. It wasn't really designed for drudging up memories of a century's old relationship that were blocked by another spell, but… beggars couldn't be choosers. She'd have to work with what she had.

She had yet to cast it though. She needed a bit of Damon's DNA for the spell to work. So she was really hoping he'd show up today.

"Caroline's not coming. I told you."

Bonnie's eyebrows pulled together in confusion as she looked at her friend. "What?"

"I made her promise to stay away. Plus she has all that drama with her mom to deal with, so…"

"Oh my God," Bonnie whispered, a hand coming up to cover her mouth as she remembered everything that happened to Caroline before she left. How could she have possibly forgotten? "I'm a terrible person."

"No, Bonnie. No one thinks that," Elena was quick to reassure, resting a supportive hand on her shoulder. "You have every reason to feel the way you do. Caroline understands too. I think we're all just trying to adjust."

She nodded absently, her mind racing. Her best friend was a vampire – she hadn't managed to do anything to fix that.

She hadn't accomplished_ anything!_

"Bonnie!" Elena exclaimed sharply and Bonnie's attention was brought to the box full of candles she had just lit. Eyes widening, she waved a hand and put the flames out before the cardboard box could catch fire.

"Sorry," she mumbled, darting her eyes around to see if anyone had noticed.

"Look, I know you're upset about this," Elena started before pitching her voice lower and angling her body fully towards her, "but Caroline didn't ask to be a vampire."

"I know that, Elena," she snapped, her frustration rising. She didn't need to be reminded of the part she'd played in her friend's turning. She couldn't do anything to change what had happed, so that left her with two options: she could either cut Caroline out of her life or put her guilt aside and make an effort to understand her and what she was going through.

Stefan had changed so little from when he was human. Was it possible that Caroline could stay the same too? Or would she be like Damon, a different side of the same coin? She couldn't imagine Caroline being anything other than what she was now.

It would probably be easier for her if she had support.

"I'll talk to her, I guess," Bonnie said more to herself than anyone.

"Bonnie, that –" Elena stuttered, taken aback, "She would like that."

Bonnie figured she owed Caroline that much at least.

* * *

Bonnie headed towards the main house in search of fairy lights. Apparently there weren't enough already hanging off every available inch of space on the extended back terrace. Was there such a thing as fairy light overkill?

She played absently with the collar of her turtleneck as she pondered this.

After four months of dressing like a nun, she was surprised to discover that ninety percent of her wardrobe made her feel naked. It would take some time for her to re-adjust to a neckline that wasn't right under her chin, but for now she had her trusty turtlenecks.

Her shoulder bumped hard into a boulder of a person and she made a small noise of surprise.

Faintly, she heard an apology and turned to watch the person walk away only to have her vision swim. The scent of sweet perfume filled the air and a curly headed Elena towered over her. No, not Elena… Katherine.

Katherine laughed and leaned forward and lapped her tongue – Oh God, no! GROSS!

Shaking the image roughly away, Bonnie blinked to find Stefan standing in front of her, his arms crossed over his chest and brow heavy.

"What's the matter? Are you okay?"

Her eyes sprinted over his form, taking in all the minute differences, and she felt a strange sense of nostalgia swell in her chest at seeing him. She met his gaze head on, searching his eyes for a deeper sense of recognition. All she saw was the same polite concern he had always shown for her before she had left.

"Bonnie?" He peered at her curiously.

"Oh." Heart sinking a little, she came back to herself and replied, "When I touched him I… saw something."

More like experienced something she never in her life wanted to experience again.

"What do you mean? Like a vision?" he asked, his forehead crumpling even further.

She nodded. "I saw Katherine."

"You saw _Katherine?_" he echoed in surprise. "Doing what?"

She scrunched her nose at the memory. "She was kissing him."

_To put it mildly_.

"Why is she hanging around Mason Lockwood?" he wondered aloud, no longer focused on her.

"She's probably manipulating him. Isn't that her M.O. when it comes to all men?" she suggested unthinkingly, her tone unmistakably on just this side of bitter.

Stefan's eyes widened marginally, his lips twitching in amusement. "I see Elena's filled you in."

"Something like that," she said, beginning to inch her way passed him, not really in the mood for a one-sided stroll down memory lane. "I have stuff to do. I'll, uh… see you around, I guess."

* * *

She wasn't hiding per say; she was just 'taking a moment.' A moment away from all the inane tasks she was being forced to do and from all the people she knew.

Sitting on a low stone wall, she people watched idly as everyone went about their business.

She wasn't normally this anti-social, but she also wasn't normally this emotionally unstable either. Whenever she thought of Caroline she felt guilty and apprehensive, with Stefan she felt nostalgic and sad… Elena made her a little uneasy, if she was going to be completely honest with herself.

And Damon… she still hadn't seen him today. With her stellar luck he probably wouldn't show up and she'd have to wait even longer to test the spell.

Annoying. Especially when she suspected the spell wouldn't work anyways. And if it didn't work what was she going to do? She had yet to devise a plan B.

She needed to get her hands on more grimoires. The right spell had to be out there somewhere; she just needed to find it.

Sighing, she imagined him, dressed as always in his trusty black on black ensemble, slipping lithely through the crowd.

The corner of her lip pulled up as she noticed a man in the distance coming across the lawn that resembled him. Dark hair, pale skin, a cocksure attitude that made people step aside instinctively. He moved quickly, with purpose, and the closer he got, the clearer he became until she could make out the lean muscles under the grey sleeves of his shirt and the electric blue of his eyes.

Electric blue eyes that locked on to her and refused to let go.

Breath snagging in her throat, she realized Damon Salvatore was storming towards her like a man on a mission.

Heart pounding, she jumped to her feet.

Should she stay? Or go? – Of course she should stay. She needed to get a hair from him – Should she talk to him? What would she say? Why was he coming towards her anyway? Was he looking for her? Why was he looking for her? Did he remember?

Hope sparked brightly in her chest and she pushed it roughly aside. There was no way he remembered her. She had to keep that in the forefront of her mind at all times, because she couldn't afford to be disappointed every time he looked at her but didn't really see her.

Forcing herself to sit back down, she wiped her palms on her pants before burying them in her lap to keep them from shaking. Taking a large breath, she watched him come closer.

She had avoided looking at him yesterday because she didn't have the strength, but today she found she could. He looked exactly the same and entirely different from when he was human. He looked older, somehow – like his experiences had aged him in a way time couldn't; he seemed darker, heavier, and less vulnerable. This Damon wore all his scars where no one could see them.

She hadn't managed to keep him from all the things that left him broken and bitter…

Suddenly despondent, her gaze dropped to her hands.

She couldn't do this. It was too much, too soon. She needed more time to adjust to the idea of him no longer being the man she knew before she could face him again. She'd get the DNA another day.

Getting to her feet, she walked in the direction of the main house where most people were still working.

"Bonnie!" he called after her and, despite knowing better, she froze. "Don't even _think_ about pretending you didn't see me."

"I'm busy," she tossed back, keeping her eyes focused on the path in front of her.

"Doing what? Cutting out paper hearts?" His fingers wrapped unexpectedly around her arm and he began dragging her in the opposite direction. "You're coming with me."

"The hell I am!" she managed around a startled breath. He needed to not be touching her, like,_ now_. She could feel her pulse speeding under the surface of her skin and she'd die if he felt it too.

It was stupid really, because he was a vampire and could hear it racing anyways, but she planted her feet stubbornly and endeavoured to pry his fingers off her arm.

"Please, Bonnie. It's important." Stefan's voice cut through her futile efforts and she swung her gaze to his, surprised to see him there.

He looked at her imploringly and she sagged in defeat. "Fine. What is it?"

"Not here," Damon said, pulling her forward. He kept her in front of him as they walked back from whence she came. She could feel the light pressure of his fingers through the fabric of her grey turtleneck and she wondered exactly how strong he was now and if he was still afraid of dying.

"Okay." Feeling like she was about to break into a million pieces, she managed to wrench her arm free from his grip. "_Okay_, this is as far as I go."

"Okay."

She crossed her arms tightly in an attempt to hold herself together before meeting his eye. "What do you want?"

His focus was intense as he kept his gaze locked on hers. "A favour."

Steeling herself against it, she frowned and asked, "What kind of favour?"

Head falling back, he began, "So predict –"only to come up short, his brow knitting. "Wait, what?"

He glanced at Stefan who lifted a shoulder briefly in response.

Was she not usually this accommodating? She couldn't remember.

Huffing loudly, she shifted her weight to one hip. "You know what? It doesn't matter. I'm not helping either way. I'm not in the mood for this."

"_Ah_," Damon sighed, swinging his attention back to her. "There's the witch I know and barely tolerate."

Bonnie bit her lip hard and diverted her gaze. "I'm leaving now." She wasn't prepared for this.

Spinning to walk away, she jerked back. Stefan was already blocking her path, his hands held out as if to pacify her. "Bonnie, wait please. I know how you feel about helping us out, but you're the one who linked Mason with Katherine. We finally have an opportunity to get the upper-hand on both of them, so… hear us out."

"Yeah, pretty please," Damon added wryly from behind her.

Shutting her eyes and shoving her tumultuous emotions aside, she tried to put things in perspective. As painful as it was being around Damon like this, there were bigger issues at play here – namely Katherine. If staying meant possibly ending the bitch for good… well, she could suffer in silence for that.

"Alright, I'm listening," she said, popping her eyes open to find Stefan staring down at his phone.

"I have to fill Elena in on what's going on." He moved to walk away, and then paused to look at his brother. "Can you play nice please?"

"_No!_" she exclaimed at an alarming volume, realizing Stefan intended to leave them.

Both men froze. Stefan's eyebrows disappeared completely off his forehead and Damon's mouth twisted down in one corner.

"Excuse me?" Damon narrowed his eyes pointedly.

She felt the blood rush to her cheeks and shook her head. "I… forgot to… buy milk this week," she backpedalled lamely. "I just remembered..."

"Right," Stefan said, his scepticism at war with the amusement in his tone. Damon didn't bother to comment, choosing to glare instead. "Well," Stefan continued, glancing between them, "are we good?"

"Yeah, we're good," Damon finally said, drying the words out as much as he could.

Stefan moved away and Damon zeroed in on her. "I'm going to pretend that the last few seconds didn't happen for your benefit. I'm also going to remind that I gave you a ride yesterday out of the goodness of my heart and I still haven't received a thank you for it. Now all _you_ have to do," he said, widening his eyes for emphasis, "is touch Mason Lockwood again, see if he gave Katherine the moonstone."

Fighting the remnants of her embarrassment, she shook her head and explained patiently, "My visions don't work like that. I don't get to ask questions."

"How inconvenient…" he said, his tone suggesting that he didn't entirely believe her, before his focus intensified. "Although… let's talk about that witchy juju thing you do with me. You know, the fun one where my brain bursts into flames. What is that?"

She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. "That's me giving you an aneurism. Your blood vessels go _pop_, but you heal quickly so I do it over and over again."

She could see the wheels starting to turn behind his eyes. "Is it vampire specific?"

What kind of question was that? Narrowing her gaze, she asked carefully, "_Why?"_

"Just answer the question."

"I'm not helping you hurt him," she answered firmly.

"So that's a yes?" he inferred.

"Damon, it's not happening."

"It _is _happening! And you want to know why, little witch?" He crowded her space suddenly and her pulse spiked, muscles stiffening as she struggled not to lose ground. She could smell his cologne and the dark, spicy scent that was uniquely Damon.

"The bastard tried to kill me and my brother and I don't take shit like that lying down," he said, pulling her sharply out of her thoughts.

"What?" Something cold entered her veins as she processed what he was saying.

"He let the council in on our little secret and we got a chest full of wooden bullets for it. –"

"How come no one told me about this?" she asked, affronted.

He arched a curious brow. "Would you have cared?"

She hesitated, choosing her next words carefully. "He's clearly a threat. Who knows what else he's capable of? Next time… next time tell me when something like this happens."

"Okay," he agreed quietly, though his surprise was evident on his feature. He tilted his head in a bird-like fashion, his blue irises racking over her like he was meeting her for the first time.

She did her best not fidget under the scrutiny, her hand absently tracing the outline of her pendant through the fabric of her turtleneck. His attention stayed on her hand for a long moment before dragging itself back up.

"So… are you in?" he finally asked.

"I'm in."

* * *

Bonnie winced as Mason's prone form slid with surprising force into the side of the truck's bed.

"Do you have to drive like that?" she asked, struggling to keep herself upright as they pulled out of another turn at breakneck speed.

"I don't_ have to_," Damon replied with fiendish delight.

"Well, he's more likely to wake up if you do," she cautioned rationally, turning her head just in time to catch him rolling his eyes.

"Why do you think you're here?" he retorted, but slowed down to a reasonable speed.

He was enjoying this way too much for her liking. She didn't know what he had planned for the werewolf, but she got the feeling Mason wouldn't be walking away from it.

Guilt chewed painfully at her insides as she leaned her head against her seat. The closest she'd ever come to killing someone was… well, Damon. And that had been in a moment of passion. This, on the other hand, was all very premeditated.

The reality of the situation was making it difficult for her to swallow. Her tongue felt thick, her skin warm and it was getting harder to breathe.

"If you're going to be sick, at least roll down the window first."

She forced a couple slow, even breaths as she returned his gaze. "I'm not going to be sick," she spoke with a confidence she wasn't really feeling.

He scoffed softly, like he could see through her veneer to the girl underneath, but shifted his attention back to the road in front of him. "This isn't your first time, you know."

"What?"

"The tomb vampires..." he trailed off, letting his words rest heavy between them. She needed no further clarification, but he continued nonetheless, "They were your first. Not to mention Mayor Lockwood and Jeremy's girlfriend, but those were unintentional, right?"

Her stomach twisted and, for a moment, she worried she might actually have to roll down the window. Through gritted teeth she managed, "Are you trying to make me feel better or worse right now?"

"Neither," he answered bluntly, his focus still fixed on the road. "I'm just stating a fact. This isn't the first time you've done something like this. When _you_, for whatever reason," he made a blind gesture in her direction before placing his hand back on the steering wheel, "chose not to deactivate the device, you chose to let all those people die. You did it because you honestly believed you were making the right decision."

He turned his head to look at her, blue eyes piercing to her very core. "I know you, Bonnie. You wouldn't be here right now if you didn't honestly believe this was the right thing to do."

Her muscles relaxed and the nausea eased away until she felt infinitely calmer.

It was true. No matter what she felt for Damon, she wouldn't be here doing something like this if it went against her principles. Mason had tried to kill two of her own, he was working with Katherine, and he was a threat to what little her and her friends had left. She would do everything in her power to protect the few pockets of happiness remaining in their lives and to protect the rest of the town and all the innocent lives that kept getting dragged into this war, but still...

This was definitely something she didn't want to get accustomed to.

Chewing absently on her bottom lip, Bonnie studied Damon's profile as he continued to drive and wondered what sort of man he was. She had never really gotten to know him as a vampire before meeting him as a human. She had made a lot of assumptions about who he was based on his actions and, albeit being completely justified in these assumptions, they were still just _assumptions._

What about him had changed and what had stayed the same?

On the surface it was easy to spot the differences. The way he carried himself, how he dressed, his cologne, his hair. Ah, his hair... she missed the slight curl it used to have. She wondered how he got rid of it. That kind of thing didn't just disappear overnight.

Speaking of hair...

She still needed some DNA if she wanted to work that spell later. She narrowed her eyes and scanned his person for any visible loose strands, lingering on the cloth lying snugly against his abdomen and the defined muscles underneath. She wondered if it was possible for a vampire to gain muscle mass because they looked bigger to her –

"Why are you staring at me?" he asked, peeking at her from the corner of his eye.

Startled, blood rushing to her face, she swivelled her head in the opposite direction. "I'm not staring at you."

"There was some definite staring going on," he countered cheekily. She could practically hear the smile pulling at his lips.

"You are so full of yourself, it's unbelievable," she said calmly, though it did nothing to lessen the red of her cheeks. Making an all encompassing gesture to the area around him, she continued, "I was looking in that _general direction_, but I wasn't looking _at _you."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetness..." he teased.

Not even bothering to respond, she paid extra attention to the passing shrubbery.

Of course.

Of course she would get caught checking him out. She shook her head slightly in disgust. She might as well just wear a sign that said, _I've got a big fat crush on you._

Not quite accurate, but equally embarrassing.

Damon made another turn, this time at a legal speed, and they drove a few minutes in silence until,

"Do any emotional hitchhiking today?"

"What?" She peered at him in confusion.

He tilted his head at her. "Ambling on the side of the road while emotionally distressed..."

She twisted her body away from him until her seatbelt cut into her neck. "No, I'm done with that phase of my life."

"Good. It wasn't a good look on you. I prefer this Bonnie."

Her lips quirked despite herself. "The one who sets you on fire?"

"The one with all the witty comebacks."

She peeked at him and he tossed her a grin.

"You're welcome, by the way." He waited a beat before gesturing to her and prompting, "Now it's your turn to say..."

She bit her lip hard and, without preamble, asked, "Do you straighten your hair?"

"What?" He trained his wide blue eyes on her, back going ramrod straight. "Why would you ask me that? Better question: why would you even _think_ to ask me that?"

Keeping – with great effort – her features neutral, she gave a tiny shrug and evaded the question. "So is that a yes?"

"Where are you getting your information from? Did Stefan tell you something?" His gaze slit. "It was Stefan, wasn't it?"

Her jaw slackened slightly as the truth dawned on her. "Oh my God... Damon... Do you actually straighten your hair?"

"It takes literally two seconds," he snapped with a dismissive wave of his hand, his head twisting back to face the road as he made one last turn.

She leaned into the space between them. "Every day_? Seriously?_"

"Two seconds!" he stressed.

"What's wrong with curly hair?"

"Everything," he said so disparagingly Bonnie couldn't stop the small chuckle that escaped her.

He glanced at her curiously, their eyes locking, and the air rushed out of the cabin. Everything stilled and, for a second, he could see her – she could feel it down to her bones, he could really see her – but then he blinked and the moment passed.

Frowning, he shut the engine off and Bonnie realized Damon had pulled into the Salvatore driveway.

"You get the bag, I'll get the werewolf," he instructed succinctly before stepping out of the vehicle and disappearing into the house.

* * *

"Here's his bag, as requested." Bonnie hefted the bag off her shoulder and onto an ornate chair by the window with a tiny grunt. That thing weighed a ton. What the hell did he have in it? Cement blocks?

She turned just in time to see Damon adjusting Mason in his seat, her eyes catching on Mason's shoulder – or more specifically the loose strand of midnight hair attached to it. It was too dark and too long to be his, so it had to be Damon's...

Perfect. Now all she had to do was get close enough to take it.

"Here. Grab that corner." Damon motioned towards the edge of a strange tarp looking material that had been placed under Mason's chair.

And now she had the perfect excuse. Thank you, Damon.

She moved forward to Mason's side and was about to reach out when Damon snapped, "I said _that_ corner."

"And I heard you!" she retorted shortly, rerouting to where he had directed. Spinning to face him, she said before leaning over to pick up her end of the tarp, "Maybe I just wanted to know why we're doing this before I actually did it."

Though she suspect she already did.

"I don't want to stain the carpet."

Ugh. "I knew you were going to say something like that." She narrowed her gaze at him even as they worked as a unit to flatten out the 'carpet protector.'

He straightened out, moving to the other end of the tarp and tilting his head towards her. "You're judging again."

"Yeah well, someone has to," she muttered darkly as Damon finished unrolling the tarp and walked over to Mason's discarded bag. Acting quickly, she placed herself in front of Mason and, keeping her attention on Damon's back, felt blindly for the solitary strand on his shoulder. "He's not going to be out much longer."

Damon was too preoccupied by what he had found to pay her any mind. "Whoa," pushing the folds of the bag further apart he pulled out a tangled coil of chains, noting, "It looks like this guy's used to being tied up."

She felt the hair at the tips of her fingers and pinched it. Damon turned and froze, the chains clattering together in his grip. "What are you doing?"

"Uh." Looking down she realized she had situated herself directly between Mason's legs and had her hand resting on his shoulder.

How did one go about explaining something like this?

Damon inched closer, his blue orbs fused on her as he raised an expectant eyebrow.

She forced herself to focus on the unconscious werewolf in front of her rather than the overly observant vampire beside her. Mind racing, cycling through possible explanations, she thought back to the grimoire she had studied last night and felt her chest loosen in relief. She spoke confidently, "You're looking for a moonstone; I'm trying to help you find it."

"Oh," he sounded pleasantly surprised. "Good." Coming around her, he bent down to begin chaining Mason to the chair, all the while firing instructions at her. "Yeah, find out if he gave it to Katherine. Find out where she is... _and_ find out what they're going to do with it once they get it."

Making sure to keep her grip on the strand of hair, she closed her eyes and carefully placed her hands on either side of Mason's head. His temples were warm against the palms of her hands. She cleared her mind of everything and focused on pushing it towards his.

She imagined coming upon a box. Hooking her fingers under the lid she tried to pry it open, but it wouldn't budge. Planting her feet she used her entire essence to push against the lid and this time it burst open.

Something stirred in the corner of her subconscious.

She didn't have a lot of time.

Peering into the box her vision seemed to tunnel, like the periphery was closed off. It was impossible to make anything out in detail; it was far too dark. Every once in a while a light would reflect strangely at a distance, warped and unclear as if the surface it was reflecting off of was unstable. And if she really strained, she thought she could make out stone on the walls around her.

She described what she was seeing to Damon.

"Like a sewer?" he supplied.

"No." She had thought that too at first, but sewers were made with cement not stone. "Like a... well? No, that can't be right."

Readjusting herself, she funneled more energy towards Mason to get a clearer image and felt his mind rustle in response. She could make out the high stone walls now. "No, it's a well," she affirmed.

"Why would it be in a well?"

Prying her mind away from Mason's, she opened her eyes and shot Damon a short look. "I don't know. Why don't you ask him when he wakes up?"

Mason's calloused hand wrapped around her wrist and, heart leaping out of her chest, her breath rushed from her in a startled gasp as he attempted to pull her forward, but Damon moved faster than the eye could see. He clasped her other wrist and pushed his body between them, reaching to unlatch Mason's hand from its position while pulling her swiftly away at the same time.

Chest tight, body heating, she wrenched herself out of Damon's possession. She needed air. She needed... she needed to leave. Glancing down at her hand to make sure she still had a hold of the strand of hair, she straightened up and made a beeline for the hallway, stating, "That's it. That's all I got."

"Hey, Judgy," he called after her, and taking a deep breath, she paused at the top of the stairs to look back at him. "Thank you," he said pointedly.

She resisted the urge the roll her eyes, but couldn't stem the tiny smile that pulled at one side of her mouth.

* * *

Bonnie barreled down the hall, the only sound that of her footsteps reverberating off the dark mahogany walls, when the air shifted subtly and she became aware that she was no longer alone.

"Hey," a small voice spoke from behind her and she spun to find Caroline at the other end of the corridor.

Bonnie hovered uncertainly. "Hi," she started, figuring pleasantries were a safe bet. "How's your mom? Elena filled me a little."

"I'm going to take her home tonight," Caroline answered with a shy kind of brightness. Her hands fluttered by her sides the way they always did when she was nervous.

Bonnie nodded vaguely. "Caroline, I'm... uh..." At a loss for words, she bowed her head, feeling the heaviness of the situation settle on her chest. "I'm so sorry... for what happened to you," she whispered earnestly.

"Oh, no, _Bonnie_," Caroline cried, standing before her in the blink of an eye, but keeping a cautious distance between them. "This wasn't your fault."

"If I hadn't gotten Damon to give you his blood –"

"Then I'd probably be dead," she interjected firmly. "Like _dead_, dead."

Bonnie raised her chin slightly to study her friend, but the weight on her chest grew heavier and her vision blurred until she couldn't make Caroline out at all and she gave her head a little shake. "This should never have happened to you."

"I know," she agreed quietly, "But it did and there's nothing anyone can do about it, so stop being upset, okay?" Reaching out delicately she placed a tentative hand on Bonnie's arm and when Bonnie didn't automatically pull away, she left it there and continued, "On the bright side I'll never need a face lift."

A watery laugh escaped Bonnie unexpectedly and, slowly, she managed to pull herself together. The weight was still there, and probably would be until she was certain Caroline was okay, but it was a small price to pay.

"Better?" Caroline asked after a while.

"Yeah, sorry," she said, smiling abashedly at the blonde. "How have _you_ been holding up?"

"I'm... adjusting. It's actually not all that different, other than the diet and superpowers."

Bonnie's eyebrows lifted and she wondered if that applied to everyone or if Caroline was an anomaly. Which reminded her, she had a spell to test.

She tapped the pocket of her jeans where she had stuffed the hair before making a motion toward the hall behind her. "I should actually..."

"Oh yeah," Caroline waved her off breezily, though the nonchalance couldn't mask the disappointment in her eyes.

Bonnie turned to walk away and then spun back, struck by a sudden thought. "Do you remember that old well where we used to play when we were kids?"

If Caroline was confused by the randomness of the question she didn't look it, answering simply, "Yeah."

"It's in the woods," she prompted. "Do you remember where?"

Caroline had always had a good memory for details. She could remember the exact outfit she wore on each one of her birthdays since the age of six. It was uncanny.

"It's on the edge of the old Lockwood property. Why?"

"I think that's where Mason is keeping the moonstone," she confessed. Then, tilting her head and lifting a shoulder, she asked shyly, "Do... you want to come with?"

"Yeah!" Caroline's face light up like Christmas, but she played it down as much as possible – which wasn't much. "Uh, sure. Okay."


End file.
